Dreams of a Life Lived
by mmouse15
Summary: Sometimes life takes a different path than planned.  A G1 AU story. Prowl/Jazz, Hound/Mirage/Trailbreaker.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Dreams of a Life Lived

'Verse: G1 AU

Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Mirage, Hound, Trailbreaker; mentions of OCs

Pairings: This is Prowl/Jazz and Hound/Mirage/Trailbreaker, but it start out Prowl/Mirage. Please don't yell at me about the pairings. FFN has a limited selection and I did my best.

Summary: Sometimes life takes a different path than planned.

A/N: I have no idea where this came from. *shrugs helplessly* Jazz took over. I was influenced by _Nim's Island_ and various writers in the fandom. ante-luce, vejiraziel, and purajo are ones that have influenced me recently.

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><p>Jazz nibbled on the stylus for a moment, then made an annotation on his pad before turning to his input station and continuing the story he was writing. His comm buzzed and he absently answered it, most of his attention focused on the glyphs scrawling across his screen.<p>

"Hey, Jazz, it's Smokey!" His agent's voice startled him. He tore his attention away from the story and focused it on the communication.

"Smokey. What's up?"

Smokescreen was bubbling over with enthusiasm. "I've got you set up at a soiree tomorrow evening – I know how much you love these things, and I couldn't resist the temptation. You're going to be very popular, Jazz!"

Jazz tried to figure out what Smokescreen was talking about before giving up and asking. "Smokey, what are you going on about?"

A pause, then, "Oh, yeah, you told me not to bother you until I'd sorted this all out. So, I was approached by a very high-class mech that loves your novels. He wanted to arrange a party of like-minded mechs to meet you, and we just finished the final arrangements. The party is tomorrow."

Jazz stared down at his desk, unable to form an answer. Smokescreen had decided when he met Jazz that Jazz was a party bot, always ready for a good time, despite Jazz's protestations to the contrary. He sighed.

"So, what are they contributing and where?"

"You'll like this one, Jazz. He's committed to building a new youth center for displaced youths in Kaon and paying for staffing it for a solar!" Smokey was practically bouncing with glee.

Despite himself, Jazz was impressed. He drew a deep draught of air. This noblemech had hit his weak spot and made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

He infused an enthusiasm he didn't feel into his voice, "Well, how wonderful! I'm delighted by his kind and generous offer and I look forward to meeting him and his friends."

Smokescreen laughed, relief evident in his tone, "That's what I told him! So here's the info you need…"

A joor later, Jazz cut the comm line and frowned before making a call of his own.

"Hello, Jazz. Long time no hear."

"I just talked to your brother last cycle, Sunstreaker. It's not like I haven't been around."

"I hear you've been busy," Sunstreaker said.

"As have you," Jazz replied.

Sunstreaker's smile came through his voice, "So, we've both been busy. What can I help you with?"

Jazz explained, and he and Sunstreaker made arrangements for the twins to help Jazz get ready for a Towers party.

Satisfied, Jazz returned his attention to his story.

Jazz wrote romances for the masses. He'd grown up abandoned on the streets of Kaon and had been put in a youth home by the Enforcers when he was four solars in age. The youth home was poor and lacked resources, but there was a tough mech in charge who made sure the younglings had fuel and an education. All the mechs that passes under Lug's care could read and write, and he did his best to get them into an institute of higher learning. Jazz had managed to get into the Iacon Academy in the Arts track, where he'd met Sunstreaker. Through Sunny he'd met Sideswipe, Sunstreaker's twin brother, who was in the Business track. Through Sides, he'd met Smokescreen, who became his agent when he'd submitted his first novel. That first book file led to a contract for three more and Jazz was on his way to financial independence for the first time in his existence.

He frowned at the screen. He was almost one hundred novels into his career and he felt that he was starting to repeat himself. He'd talked to Smokey and his publisher about writing more mature novels, but they'd been hesitant to change his product. Jazz had made his point by writing the novel and publishing under a different penname. It had become a run-away best seller for the publishing house, and Jazz now found himself juggling two styles of writing and growing more critical of his formulaic approach to his tamer writing name.

Sighing, he went through his manuscript critically, changing his descriptions of the hero to a completely different frame type. He again nibbled on his stylus before placing another comm.

"Hey, Jazz! How are you?" Hound's pleasant voice filled his audio receivers.

"I'm well, thanks, Hound." Jazz replied.

"What can I do for ya?" Hound asked.

"I was hoping to pick your processor about military types and treat ya to a meal." Jazz answered.

"Sure! What time?" Hound said.

"When do you get off work?" Jazz asked.

"Oh, in about twenty joors," was the reply.

"Great! How about five joors after you get off?"

"I'll see you then. Hound out."

Jazz got up and checked his cabinets. He had some candied energon he made at the start of the cycle – that would work as the sweet course between the two main courses. He had some gelled mid-grade suitable as the main course and a light high-grade that would work for drinking during the meal. He found some energon cakes he'd bought a couple cycles ago that he could use as the third course and as a final treat for the meal, he had some candied energon twigs, very difficult to find and thus, Jazz hoped, a very special treat for his friend.

After his inventory of foodstuffs, Jazz returned to his writing. One of the reasons he was successful was his discipline. He wrote all the time, edited himself harshly, and was amenable to his editor's suggestions and corrections.

So he returned to his work, changing his first hero's profession to the military and his second hero to a medical bot. He'd already done a medical bot as a hero before, so he called up his research on that, made a couple more comms and finally wrapped up for the day.

He laid out the food and set his small table for two. Hound arrived right on time and they enjoyed a fine meal together before moving to Jazz's main room and making themselves comfortable on the seats.

"So, Jazz, what do you want to know?" Hound asked, sipping his high-grade and munching on the energon twigs with enthusiasm.

"I've decided to make one of my heroes active in the military and I need to understand a lot more about the daily routine. Oh, and I need a special event, too. I don't know anything about the military, so I need background information. Anything you can think of, I probably need." Jazz answered, his pad and stencil at the ready.

So Hound talked. He started back at the rebellion Megatron had started, the uprising of the poor and downtrodden against the rich and privileged over energon shortages. He touched on the death of Sentinel Prime and the scramble to find a new Prime, culminating in a dock hand named Orion Pax becoming Optimus Prime. He recounted the first clash between Optimus Prime and Megatron, where Optimus had recognized Megatron as his Lord High Protector and sparkmate and had refused to fight him, calling instead for a council between them. Megatron had been baffled, but had cautiously agreed to a meeting in the middle of the two armies, bringing his two lieutenants, Shockwave and Starscream. Optimus Prime had brought Ironhide and Highbrow and had spoken first. Megatron rebuffed him, and Optimus had opened his spark, begging for his mate. Shocked, Megatron had been unable to resist the call of his mate's spark and had reached for him, uniting them in front of both armies.

Once Megatron was established as Optimus' Lord High Protector, their world had changed. Optimus moved rapidly, changing energon distribution and suspending the Senate. A new government was established with a balance of power. The Senate was matched by a Council based on population and measures had to pass both bodies to be presented to the Prime. The rebellion had died as energon became available to everyone, which meant that the armies raised by both sides dissolved and were replaced by a standing volunteer army, each side contributing. Since the rebellion had been short lived, they meshed well.

Hound talked about the various functions within the Cybertronian Army and how units were formed, some with special functions such as sabotage, others just general units but everyone highly trained.

"So, I really need someone who's based more on Cybertron rather than posted to the moons or off-planet," Jazz said.

Hound grinned, "We all do our rotations to the moons, and it's just part of being in the military. Not all of us go off-planet, though."

Hound continued to talk about various duties, about off-planet rotations and which units got picked for that. The unit would be a mixture of specialties, with a medic, heavy weapons, demolition or sabotage, sniper, scout and a specialist making up the bare bones of the team which was matched with a group of scientists or technicians searching for energon resources, or energy resources that could be refined into energon.

"Although I'd love it if you'd mention that the Prime will not let us search inhabited planets, since he feels that it is unfair to another, possibly sentient, species to take their resources for our use." Hound mentioned.

Jazz noted it, then reminded Hound that he needed a special event.

"Oh, an inspection by the Prime or the Lord High Protector is enough of a special event," Hound said, "so you don't need to make something up."

"Tell me about it," Jazz encouraged him.

Hound talked about the notification, the cleaning from top to bottom of the base, the polishing of armor, the complete stripping and cleaning of all weapons and the endless drilling.

"We do appreciate that the Lord High Protector and the Prime take these inspections as seriously as we do. They don't breeze in, nod, and leave. They spend two or three cycles with us, eating in the mess with the mechs, sleeping in the barracks and just spending a lot of time. Pit, last time the Prime came and drilled with us."

"You're kidding!" Jazz laughed.

"Nope, I'm not. He was right next to me, " Hound said.

"How'd he do?" Jazz asked.

"Not bad at all. He does a fair bit of training himself and he did well. Of course, he didn't know our special weapons drill, but he caught on quickly. He's a good spark, our Prime." Hound said.

Jazz asked a couple more questions, then let Hound go on his way since they both had work the following cycle.

Jazz wrote a new outline, then rolled himself into his berth for a long recharge, since he would be up very late the following cycle attending the soiree at the Towers. He shuttered his optics, content with a good cycle of work.

* * *

><p>The next cycle, Jazz roused from recharge late. He took a container of energon around with him as he straightened up a few things mussed from the night before and tidying his home to his liking. Once he was done straightening up, he sat in his chair and looked at his large window.<p>

The window was the reason he had chosen this apartment. It looked down over the central marketplace and there was an ever-changing array of mechs swirling in a display of life. Jazz loved to mech watch, and some of his best stories had come from catching a glimpse of two mechs, or two femmes, or a mech and a femme in a little slice of life and asking 'What if?' or 'Why?'. He watched for a few joors, enjoying this quiet time.

His door chimed, and he answered it, ushering the twins in. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe looked very different, with Sunstreaker being a gleaming yellow while Sideswipe was red with black accents. Their helm designs were different, too, but their faces were very similar, which gave the sense of kinship. Jazz had become friends with them, never realizing they were twins until one cycle when he was complaining about the lack of information on spark twins, since the novel he was writing at the time had a twin. He was telling the brothers that he'd have to give up the storyline when Sideswipe, after a quick look at his brother, asked him what he wanted to know. Jazz had poured out a whole list of questions that the brothers had patiently answered. Stunned, Jazz told them he'd never known.

"That's why we chose different frames when our final upgrades came along. Too many mechs wanted to get to know us because we were a novelty." Sideswipe had told him, Sunstreaker nodding his agreement.

After that, the brothers had been especially close to Jazz, the three mechs supporting each other in their endeavors. Sideswipe ran an import business, while Sunstreaker was an artist of high renown. Sunstreaker had his art hanging in his brother's import house, while Jazz had held signings for his novels at the import house. Sideswipe helped Jazz visualize rare items when they were needed as a setting in his novels, since he often had such items in his possession. Sunstreaker had helped Jazz with early cover designs for his novels' packaging, painting a vivid scene from Jazz's descriptions within the novel. Those early covers were highly sought collector's items if Sunstreaker's package design was still intact. Jazz had written lyrical descriptions for Sunstreaker's first galley showing. They borrowed materials from each other, helped each other through tough times, and scouted potential dates for each other.

The brothers were here to help Jazz look perfect for this soiree. Sunstreaker had brought his air brush and a collection of waxes and polishes, while Sideswipe had brought soaps and cleaners. They were very thorough, starting with cleaning Jazz in his root mode, then coaxing him into vehicle mode, where the brothers dove in and cleaned his floors and seats and clear panels. Sideswipe then pulled out a sander and removed all the paint before Sunstreaker stepped in and repainted him. Jazz owned a very good dryer that sped up the drying process without cracking the paint. Afterwards, they waxed and polished him while Jazz giggled at the tickling he received. Once they were done with his vehicle mode, Jazz transformed back into mech mode, where the whole processes was repeated.

Standing in the middle of his apartment with his arms outstretched while Sideswipe knelt before him with the sander, Jazz reflected on how lucky he was to have such wonderful mechs in his life. The only thing missing was a mech that he could love and that could love him, but he felt that at the right time, Primus would send the right mech his direction. He just hoped he wasn't too caught up in living to recognize the mech.

Sunstreaker stroked the paint on with the airbrush, then Jazz went under the dryer. Then he sat down so they could do the bottom of his pedes. Sideswipe had a portable dryer for small jobs like this. Then wax was applied, first to the bottom of his pedes. The polishing was done with a special polish that allowed him to not have slick bottoms so he didn't fall on his aft. Then the brothers waxed the rest of him as he stood between them before pulling out the cloths and polishing him to a high gloss. As a final touch, Sunstreaker rubbed a glossy coat onto Jazz's non-metallic parts.

Forty joors later, they were done. Jazz stood, his frame gleaming with the best wax and a very soft scent of highly maintained metal wafted in the air. He sniffed, then grinned at Sunstreaker.

"The very best stuff! Thanks, Sunny."

"You're welcome. Are you going by transport?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Yeah, Smokescreen's sending one. It should be here in two joors." Jazz answered, moving over to his desk and subspacing a pad and stylus, along with two markers for scrawling his glyphs on any novel pad offered to him.

"Good. You can't afford to get scuffed by someone walking over to the Towers. It wouldn't give the right impression." Sunstreaker moved away to gather up their materials.

Sideswipe stepped up and carefully clasped Jazz's shoulder. "Remember, let them lead. Don't eat everything on your plate, count to ten between bites, ask them about themselves; they love to talk about themselves. Be deferential, but not subservient. After all, they asked you there, you didn't force your way in. Leave after three or four mechs have taken their leave. Don't offer to autograph datapads, wait for them to ask. Do not volunteer anything about your background. Every single one of them has a different idea, none of which resemble the truth at all, and telling the truth will dim your mystic in their optics."

"Better to be thought a fool than open your mouth plates and remove all doubt?" Jazz asked.

"Yeah. Just…be quiet and respectful. They can wipe you out if they decide they don't like you, or they can make you even bigger than you already are." Sideswipe looked worried for his friend.

Jazz smiled up at him. "Thanks for the advice, Sides. I really appreciate it."

They all left at the same time, Jazz swathed in a cloak to protect his finish from any bumps. Sideswipe had loaned it to him. On Sides, it was knee-length, while on Jazz it brushed the ground and hid his entire frame. Sunstreaker nodded approvingly.

The transport was waiting with Smokescreen inside. He hopped out and gave Jazz his hand to help him into the large vehicle. Settling himself, Jazz nodded at the front of the vehicle and murmured, "Thank you for taking me tonight."

A deep voice answered him, "You're welcome, Jazz. It's my pleasure. I'm a big fan of your books."

"Really?" Jazz asked, "What's your name? Which datapad is your favorite?"

The mech replied, "My name is Wrench. My favorite is iTwo Moons Above/i, and I'm really honored to meet you."

They had a pleasant conversation, with Jazz autographing the mech's favorite novel before he got out at the base of the Towers.

Smokescreen had nervously chattered the entire time, a running monologue of everything Jazz should and shouldn't do. He listened and decided he'd run with Sideswipe's advise, which was much more terse and thus easier on Jazz's processor. He approached the doorman with the invitation in his hand.

"Hello, my name is Jazz." He offered the invitation, but subspaced it at the subtle wave of the doorman's hand.

"Welcome to the Towers, Dom Jazz." The doorman bowed him into the building. Nervously, Jazz entered and walked across the lobby area.

Another mech wearing some symbol on his chest met Jazz. "Dom Jazz?"

"Yes?" Jazz answered.

"Dom Jazz, I am here to escort you to Lord Mirage."

"Oh. Thank you…?" Jazz trailed off.

The mech smiled at him. "My name is Scuff, sir."

Jazz grinned at him. "Nice to meet you, Scuff." He offered his hand.

Scuff shook it, but turned it into a hand at his elbow. "Sir, you don't shake the hands of the servants in the Towers."

"Oh." Jazz said, embarrassment flushing his cheek plates.

"It's alright, sir. Just, for the future, now you know." Scuff escorted him to the elevator and pressed the call button.

"Yes, thank you, Scuff." Jazz said, entering the elevator when the doors opened. Scuff followed him in and pressed a floor button very high on the panel. A light on his wrist cuff flashed, and the elevator closed its doors and lifted off. This Lord Mirage lived high up in the Towers. Jazz wondered if the old saying about the higher you lived the richer you were held true.

They exited into a private foyer, tastefully decorated. Scuff pressed a panel next to the only doorway in the walls, and the door opened after his wrist cuff again flashed.

Jazz entered with trepidation, very nervous now that he'd seen a little of how the Towers worked. Scuff entered the room and was met by another mech wearing the same symbol on his chest.

"Ah, Dom Jazz. Lord Mirage has been expecting you; you're right on time. Admirable. May I take your cloak?"

Jazz dutifully allowed himself to be relieved of the cloak, mentally bracing himself for what happened next. Outwardly, he had a smile fixed on his face and did his best to look at ease.

The butler gave him a small smile and two of his fingers transformed into a small soft brush. "May I, Dom?"

Jazz looked over at his arm. A small piece of fluff from the cloak was sticking to his arm. "Yes, please. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Dom." The butler's fingers transformed back and he turned. "Please follow me."

Jazz fell in behind the butler and they walked through a long hallway. Plush carpets covered the floors, rare paintings adorned the walls, niches held exotic sculptures. Jazz did his best to look and not gawp at the riches displayed around him.

The butler finally stopped at a door and looked back at Jazz, who nodded at him. The butler tipped his head slightly, then opened the door and stepped through.

"Dom Jazz, my lord." He announced.

A blue and white mech came forward, his hand out. His helm was the most unusual Jazz had ever seen. The vents framed his face and went down to his shoulders, making him look like he was wearing a headdress. He was a light frame, sleek and elegant. His frame gleamed with good care, and his optics were a rare golden color. Jazz internally smiled at the thought of Sunstreaker having optics that matched his paint and made a note to share that idea with Sunny at the first opportunity.

"Dom Jazz? My name is Mirage. Welcome to my home. I'm so glad you could join us." Mirage shook his hand and gracefully curved his arm around Jazz's shoulders to introduce him around.

The other noblemechs in the room gathered to be introduced to Jazz. He found himself murmuring polite greetings to the dozen or so mechs, each seemingly eager to meet him.

Once the introductions were taken care of, Mirage waved over one of the servants and asked Jazz what he would like to drink.

"…and I have this fabulous Polyhex high-grade; you can taste the titanium, it gives it such a tart flavor!"

"Thank you, my lord. I'd prefer something a little lighter." Jazz murmured quietly.

"Nonsense! High-grade is the way to go!" Mirage laughed jovially.

"Yes, my lord." Jazz agreed.

The servant reappeared at his elbow with a crystal container. Jazz thanked him quietly and sipped it. He'd gotten a sweet mid-grade that sparkled like the high-grade in all the other containers. Jazz briefly grinned at the server and received a small dip of the head in return.

"Dom Jazz, I wanted to ask about your next bookfile!" A green and grey mech politely grasped his elbow to catch his attention.

"Yes, my lord?" Jazz responded.

"I loved your hero mech in the last book, iNever Again/i and I want you to do a follow-up story. I loved it so much!" the mech was gushing his praise.

"Baffle, darling, you can't gush at the poor mech!" another mech came over. He was red and black. He wrapped his arm around the green mech and hugged him.

"Lure, this is so exciting for me! Creator doesn't like that I read these novels, you know that, and it was so nice of Mirage to arrange this for me!" Baffle leaned into his friend.

Lure answered him, "Yes, I know. But authors often don't want to give away their plots, so you do it like this." He turned to Jazz and offered his hand, "Hi, I'm Lure. I'm a big fan of your books. May I ask you a question?"

Jazz was genuinely smiling now. He knew how to do this, "Sure, as long as you don't want to know my secrets!"

Lure laughed, "No, but I do want to know how you decide if the novel should be two mechs, two femmes, or a mech and a femme?"

"Ah," Jazz said, "that's a really good question. I let the characters themselves tell me. Sometimes I don't find out until I'm deep into the writing, other times I found out in the first paragraph. It really all depends."

"Well, I have to admit that your first femme/femme novel, iWalls Between Us/i, was fantastic. Did you have help writing the femme parts?"

Jazz reminded himself that this mech could make or break him and he wasn't trying to be deliberately stupid. "I feel that the need for love is a universal emotion and is true of everyone, femme or mech, which means I didn't need anything specific from a femme to write the book. However, yes, I did research and I asked some femme friends of mine to read through certain sections and make sure my characters behaved in a way that rang true for them."

"Oh, of course. I'm really glad you could be here this cycle." Lure smiled, still hugging Baffle.

"Oh, my turn!" Baffle said, bouncing a little on his pedes.

"Sure," Jazz said, "what would you like to know?"

"Well, in iNever Again/i you had the two mechs separated by a creator, who was such a horrible mech! No one should do that to their creation. Anyway, now that they're together, what happens next?"

Over Baffle's shoulder, Jazz looked at Lure, who was gazing down a Baffle with a smile and an adoring expression on his face plates. Jazz was suddenly struck by the idea that Baffle equated himself and Lure with the heroes in his last book. Lure looked up and caught his optics, a hint of pain in his own optics.

"Why, my lord, they lived happily ever after, of course! 'Break's creator forgave them when he saw how much in love they were." Jazz said, quickly writing the story to a temporary storage. That novel had been the first time a family member had been the villain and it seemed to have struck a neural chord with Baffle.

Baffle clapped his hands in glee, "See? I told you so, Lure."

"You're right, of course you are, Baffle. Do you have any more questions for Dom Jazz?" Lure kept his attention on Baffle, gazing into his optics and smiling at him.

"No, Lure, I don't." Baffled answered, leaning against the other mech.

"Then would mine refilling my container? I'm thirsty." Lure offered his crystal cup, and Baffle took it excitedly.

"No, of course not! I'll be right back!" He skipped off, indulgent smiles following him across the room.

Lure dropped his voice modulations. "Thanks for being kind to Baffle. He's a good spark, but his processor was damaged during this latest upgrade and it's taking a while to root out the problem. He's very attached to me, but his creator wants him to wait until his processor is right before allowing anything to happen. Your novels give him hope."

"My lord, I wish you both the very best." Jazz answered equally quietly.

"Thank you. Even if he can't get that processor fixed, I want to bond with him. He's the other half of my spark, and while I appreciate his creator's wishes, the waiting can be very difficult."

Jazz murmured, "Yes, I can imagine that."

"Well. Let me introduce you to another fan." Lure turned to a huge black mech that came up. "Dom Jazz, this is Lord Hammer."

"My lord," Jazz said, accepting the proffered hand and shaking it.

"Dom Jazz. It's wonderful to meet you. I've enjoyed your novels very much. I do wish, however, that you gave more time to the military." Hammer had a deep voice that rumbled and gave the impression of great power.

"You'll be delighted with the next novel, then, my lord. I'm putting one of the heroes in the military and the other in the medical field." Jazz responded.

"Excellent! I'll look forward to it." Hammer drew Jazz across the room. "This is my mate, Edge. He's the one that got me into your novels."

Edge was a slender silver mech and leaned against his much larger mate with a fond smile on his face plates. "You read them because they're well written and a very good distraction when you're off on business."

"True," Hammer said, leaning down to nuzzle against Edge's nasal ridge, "but I wouldn't have ever picked one up by myself."

Another mech came over and joined the conversation and it flowed that way for another couple of breems until a small bell rang. Everyone looked toward the sound.

Mirage was standing near another set of doors, a small bell in his hand. "My dear friends, Pads tells me the meal is ready." He looked over at his butler, who gave a small bow to the assembled mechs. "So, please, come join me for our meal!"

They all moved toward Mirage, who deftly cut Jazz out from the pack and slid his hand under Jazz's arm, walking side by side with him.

"I'm so glad you could join us, Dom Jazz. I am also a big fan of your novels and enjoy how they do not repeat each other, even though by this point they easily could. You do a very good job of creating new situations and new characters to populate your stories."

Mirage took a seat at the head of the table, Jazz to his right. The other mechs were obviously familiar with the seating arrangements and found their places quickly. Jazz smiled to himself to see Hammer settled Edge in his seat and help push it in. Lure did the same for Baffle, but sat next to him while Hammer moved to the other side of the table, sitting across from his mate.

Baffle was seated next to Jazz and after the servants started placing the first course, he leaned across and said, "Dom Jazz, do tell me more about 'Break and 'Fast."

Jazz spun more of the story, writing it as he spoke to temporary storage. He decided he would write a special follow up to his novel and send it to Baffle. He wondered how many people would actually be interested in a sequel to one of his novels and dismissed the idea, focusing his attention on the conversation.

Baffle was a very good conversationalist, moving away from novels to other items of general interest. Lure would turn from his other table mate to lean next to Baffle and support his point. Jazz enjoyed it thoroughly.

As the course changed, Baffle turned his attention to Lure, and Jazz noticed that everyone turned to the mech on their other side. He turned his attention to Mirage, who was watching him quietly.

"This is very nice, Lord Mirage. Thank you for inviting me." Jazz said after a silence that felt too long.

Mirage dipped his head, "I should be thanking you. It was very gracious of you to give your time to us this cycle."

Jazz smiled, "It was my pleasure."

"Indeed. Tell me, Dom Jazz, why Kaon?" Mirage picked up a utensil and dipped it in the container in front of him, then raised it to his lip plates and swallowed the mixture. Jazz carefully imitated him, then answered.

"Kaon is where I grew up, Lord Mirage. I have a fondness for my home city."

"Understandable. What else would you like to do with your life, Dom Jazz?" Mirage didn't look directly at Jazz as he asked the question.

Jazz was taken aback. That was a very personal question, and he wondered why Mirage asked it. Deciding that it was too personal, he replied, "I would like to continue doing the best I can with my life. How about you, Lord Mirage?"

Mirage smiled briefly at the question. "As would I, Dom Jazz."

The mech on the other side of Mirage thrust his face forward and boomed, "Nonsense! What's needed is more mechs of action! None of this wishy-washy touchy-feely stuff, Mirage! We need to take back the power the Prime has taken away from us! We're being deprived of the resources our credits found and that we're entitled to have."

Mirage slowly turned his helm to the other mech. "Dropfire, we're not discussing such subject this cycle. I told you that."

"Yeah, you did, Mirage, but it's important!"

The mech next to the bombastic Dropfire leaned in and added his thoughts. "My lords, I do believe this topic is more suited to a business setting rather than a party." Jazz felt a jolt in his spark at the voice. He was sure he hadn't met this mech.

Dropfire leaned back and waved his hand, "You're right, of course. My apologies, Lord Mirage."

The other mech continued smoothly, "Besides, I do believe the topic had more to do with a personal level, rather than society as a whole. Dropfire, how do you contribute back to society?"

Dropfire looked agog. "Contribute back? Why, in the name of Primus, would I ever want to do that?"

Mirage answered, "Because it's the right thing to do. It's what the Prime is calling for us to do, to serve as an example to the masses. By giving to Cybertronians, we show that we're part of them, not separated or set apart."

Dropfire turned to the mech on his right. "Is that why you went into city planning, Prowl?"

The mech must have agreed, because Dropfire laughed and slapped his leg. "I wondered! You're so much better than that lowly filth you have to work with. Seems a shame to have you there, toiling like a common bot when you could live in the lap of luxury. Excuse me."

A servant appeared over Dropfire's shoulder and bent to give him a quiet message. Dropfire listened, then excused himself from the table.

Mirage returned his attention to Jazz. "My apologies. I desire to answer the Prime's call by addressing the problems of our underprivileged younglings. I was hoping that you could help me with this project. Oh, I don't believe you've met Lord Prowl. He arrived just as we were heading into our meal. Lord Prowl, Dom Jazz. Dom Jazz, Lord Prowl."

Prowl nodded at Jazz around the obstructing centerpiece. "It's very nice to meet you, Dom Jazz."

"Nice to meet you, too, Lord Prowl." Jazz sat back and looked at Mirage, then asked, "How, exactly, do you want me to help?"

Mirage nodded. "Yes, of course you'd need to know. I'd love for you to join the board of the charitable function I've started. As a board member, you would have some social visibility, but you would also have input into the types of projects we would assume. What do you think?"

Jazz took a sip of the high-grade in his cup. "I think I'd like to look at your business plan, please. I'll look it over and give you my answer in a cycle or two."

"Fair enough." Mirage replied.

The mech on the other side of the table, deprived of his conversational companion, leaned in and asked, "Mirage, how exactly are you going to put in a youngling center in Kaon? There's no room; the entire city-center is an industrial complex not suited for living quarters for the workers, much less for any younglings."

"I was hopeful that we could refurbish one of the existing centers, Prowl, that are around the edges of the complex and would be of the most help to the younglings."

Lord Prowl bowed his head briefly to acknowledge Lord Mirage's point. "What is the best model you could find?"

Mirage answered, "There was an excellent center, called Kaon Protoform Services, which seemed to answer many of the problems facing the younglings of Kaon. However, the director, Lug, had to retire and the home seems to have fallen to pieces."

Jazz cocked his head and asked, "Why did Director Lug have to retire?"

Prowl answered him, "He was forced out by a board decision. However, I believe they regret that decision now since the home is steadily losing money at this point. Somehow, Director Lug made it break even or even show a small profit, in addition to turning out solid mechs that were a boon to our society."

Jazz spoke without thinking. "He made sure all the younglings could read and write."

The two lords looked at him. He straightened his back strut and continued, "I'm willing to believe the new director cut the education programs, which gave every youngling there hope that they could improve their lot in life. Without hope, I'd guess most of them run away as soon as they're old enough to make a living on the streets. Without a stable population of youths, a lot more time is spent on orientation and taking care of basic needs."

"Yes," said Lord Prowl, "that's exactly what's happening."

Jazz nodded. "So, first step, reinstate the education programs. Director Lug also busted bolts getting younglings into academies and colleges. He found scholarships, grants, and sponsors to pay the costs. It made a difference, and not just to the bottom line of the center."

Lord Prowl leaned back. "Let me investigate more about this, Mirage."

"We'll talk in a couple of cycles, Prowl."

The courses changed, and Jazz found himself talking to Baffle again. He asked about Baffle's family and was able to eat while the mech talked about his very large and extended family. His father and all four of his brothers, Baffle's uncles, ran the family business together. Each of the five mechs had large families and Baffle had an enormous number of people related to him.

Lure grinned across Baffle at Jazz and said, "I had to reassure no fewer than 87 different mechs and femmes about my intentions toward Baffle."

Baffle grinned and told Jazz, "My family takes up eight different floors here."

Jazz was impressed and said so. Baffle and Lure laughed and the conversation continued along other veins.

After the meal, they all retreated to the room they'd started in. Energon candy was scattered around on little trays and servants were quick to give them all a container of high-grade. Jazz found himself with the sparkling mid-grade again and quietly thanked the server.

Lord Prowl sought him out with a datapad and stylus in his hand. Jazz was a little nervous, but Lord Prowl soon had him at ease, asking pertinent questions and delving as deeply as he needed for clarification. He never asked how Jazz knew these things, he merely took Jazz's word for it and coaxed Jazz into a full telling of the ideas and methods Jazz felt had worked. How were the younglings upgraded (medical students)? What were the educational programs, and how had Lug bypassed the counts on the chips (he'd had them reloaded with more licenses as a donation from the educational company). What was the use of the large yard in the back of the center (unorganized play and organized games). How had Lug given hope to the younglings (the mechs that made it out came back to give talks and spend time at the center).

Jazz looked up and realized that there were only three mechs besides themselves and Mirage left.

"I beg your pardon, Lord Prowl, but I need to get going." Jazz said.

"May I comm you later?" Prowl asked.

Jazz passed him his comm information and took his leave, thanking Mirage for a wonderful evening. A servant got his cloak and escorted him to the elevator and called it up for him. He exited on the ground floor and called Smokescreen. The transport mech, Wrench, arrived half a breem later and Jazz sank back in the comfortable seat.

"How was it, Jazz?" Smokescreen had left the transport for Jazz and gone back to his office and thus was calling Jazz on his comm line.

"It was fascinating. I'll tell you more next cycle, Smokey. I need to recharge." Jazz said.

"Sure, sure, no problem, Jazz! I'll talk to you then. Call me, so I don't jolt you out of recharge!" Smokescreen terminated his comm and Jazz sank back on the seat, dazed and yet strangely hyped up. He had very much enjoyed his conversation with Lord Prowl and hoped the mech would comm him. He'd enjoyed being around him in a way he'd never felt before.

Once at his home, Jazz gave the transport mech a large tip and staggered up to his berth, dropping the cloak and falling into his berth almost immediately, already half way into recharge before he was horizontal.


	2. Chapter 2

The next cycle, Jazz got up as he always did, sipping his morning energon and wandering around his home, watching the swirling palette of the marketplace. He thought about the party last cycle, about the mechs he'd met and how he'd enjoyed himself.

Then he sat down to write. He was enjoying himself, feeling creative and using Hound's information to the best of his ability when his comm went off. It was Lord Prowl on the line, and Jazz greeted him with a smile.

"Lord Prowl. I'm so glad to hear from you."

"Indeed. It is a pleasure to hear your voice, also. I wanted to ask if you were available to consult with me this cycle, or if that is not convenient, at some other time mutually agreeable."

Jazz was still smiling when he answered, "I've checked my schedule, and I am available this cycle. When would you like to meet and where?"

They arranged the time and place, then Jazz, still smiling, said, "Thanks for calling. I need to get back to work, so I'll talk to you later."

"Yes, of course," Prowl responded, "thank you for your time."

Jazz terminated the call and returned to his work with a sense of purpose and an unknown lightness to his spirit. He was eager to meet with Lord Prowl and hopefully, get to know the mech better.

His work went well, and he wrapped up at the end of the cycle, feeling accomplished and ready to meet Lord Prowl. He popped into his refresher, glad of the superb job the twins had done with his paint and waxing. He felt good and that attitude carried over as he left his apartment, giving his step a certain bounce.

They met at a small café near Prowl's work. Prowl ordered an inexpensive energon shake, while Jazz treated himself to warmed energon with a crisp energon treat on the side. They enjoyed their drinks, and Lord Prowl opened the conversation by asking Jazz questions about the youth homes. Jazz had done a lot of research into this topic and was able to uphold his end of the conversation easily, turning some of the questions back to Lord Prowl.

"…and please, just call me Prowl. I don't really feel like a lord in this setting, and I find it wearing to hear you address me so. I would appreciate your courtesy in this matter, Dom Jazz." Prowl said, his fingertips sliding through the moisture left by his shake on the top of their table.

"I'll do so if you'll address me as Jazz. What, by the way, is up with the Dom stuff?" Jazz had been puzzled by that the entire time he'd been at the towers.

"Oh." Prowl's lips quirked up in a smile briefly. "Dom is a very old address of respect. Basically, the Towers has three main modes of addressing someone. They're a lord, a Prime or the equivalent, or a Dom or Domine. Basically, a lord, a priest, or a gentlemech or femme."

Jazz raised an optic ridge. "What about a servant?"

Prowl scoffed lightly. "The servants are there to serve, not be noticed."

Jazz shook his head. "And you grew up with this?"

Prowl nodded, "But my carrier was a poor femme that my creator fell in love with. She always countered my creator's prejudices with her own experiences. It was a good balanced approach and taught me much of life outside the Towers, so I grew up knowing that the Towers way wasn't the only way."

Jazz clarified, "So Dom basically means gentlemech?"

Prowl shook his head, "It means 'Sir', and shows that a mech is higher in social rank than a mere mech from the streets. By now, it's an antiquated form of address only used in the Towers, and you kind of get used to it. You assume that anyone not from the Towers is a Dom and address them as such."

Jazz shook his head, "There are a lot of rules to living in the Towers."

Prowl agreed, "Yes, there are. In fact, there are so many rules that you can get lost in keeping track of them and forget to live. I'm lucky. Mirage is a very unique mech – he's the only creation of two very rich and very powerful families. Both his creators have died under suspicious circumstances, and the scions of the two families protect him with all their resources. They also indulge him, and because of them, he's pretty much immune to the politics of living in the Towers. Mirage has found like-processored mechs and brought us together to start changing how the Towers is perceived outside its walls."

Jazz leaned back and looked at Prowl. "Is that why you're working a government job?"

Prowl emsquirmed/em. "Partially, yes. I want to contribute to our world, and my specific talents are well suited to this job."

"What, exactly, is your job?" Jazz asked.

"I work in city planning. My job is to make sure the resources necessary for each project are available and will not put unnecessary strain on any specific resource."

"Sounds like a lot of work." Jazz commented idly.

Prowl shook his head. "No, it's really not. It's all in the planning. I really enjoy my work – it's so much fun to see how everything comes together and fits and makes life better without wasting resources or using unnecessary amounts of materials."

Jazz grinned, "I'm glad you've found your niche, Prowl."

Prowl smiled back at him, and Jazz could feel his spark give a lurch at the sweetness of that smile. "I am also glad, Jazz."

Jazz sat back in his chair, stunned. He'd written about this, he'd seen it happen, but he'd never, in all his existence, felt this. It was a revelation. He shook his head, trying to clear his processor. When he looked up, Prowl was giving him an odd look.

Jazz gave him a half-sparked grin. "Sorry 'bout that. I was up late, and I've put in a full cycle of work. I must be more tired than I thought, spacing out on you like that."

Prowl nodded, "I understand. I, too, am tired and should leave and get some recharge. I've really enjoyed our conversation. Are you available if I have further questions?"

Jazz nodded. "Yeah, I am. I'd love to talk to you more, Prowl."

They parted, each going their own way, and Jazz thought deeply about that momentary hitch he'd felt in his spark for the next orn.

* * *

><p>Jazz had accepted Lord Mirage's offer to be on the advisory board, and this gave him continued contact with Lord Prowl. They discovered a shared sense of humor and a common set of values. They both valued education and had a deep sense of family. Prowl did have a family, while Jazz's family was the mechs he'd grown up with and to whom he was intensely loyal, as Prowl found out one night cycle.<p>

"…and I disagree with the directors. The reason Lug had the partitions up was to give a sense of privacy. Having the berths lining the walls of the open area and never giving anyone a space that is their own demeans them, makes them less in their own processor." Jazz explained over a diagram of the youth center.

"You mean, they're treated like a second class citizen, so they behave that way?" Prowl asked.

"Yes! When I was there, we all wanted to live up to Lug's expectations of us, and disappointing him was the worst feeling on the planet. These new directors have such low expectations that most of the younglings are having to go down to meet them."

"Which is the wrong direction," Prowl said.

"Yeah, it is." Jazz agreed.

"So, we put partitions along the wall – do they need to go all the way up?" Prowl made a notation on the diagram.

"Ours didn't, but they went high enough that someone sitting on the top berth couldn't look over the wall." Jazz answered.

Jazz's door chimed, and the two mechs looked up. Jazz shrugged and stood, walking over to answer his door.

Trailbreaker was on the other side, and Jazz took one look and reached out to pull him inside, continuing to pull him over to the table and pushing him to sit down. Jazz pushed the papers he and Prowl had been going over to one side, then went to get the high grade and another chair. He poured a cup of high grade and offered it to Trailbreaker before offering one to Prowl. Prowl accepted it, his optic ridges and doors raised high.

Jazz seated himself and asked, "How bad is it?"

Trailbreaker said quietly, "His shuttle is missing. They waited forty joors before informing command."

Jazz reached over and held Trailbreaker's hand. "What are they doing to find them?"

Trailbreaker choked back a slightly hysterical laugh. "The shuttle pilot is bonded, and his bonded says he's still alive. They're using him to help track the shuttle's location."

Jazz drew in a deep draft of air. "TB, I'm so sorry."

Trailbreaker pulled his hand away from Jazz and covered his face. "If only…"

Jazz stood and wrapped his arms around the big mech. "Y'know it doesn't work that way, TB. He's got his reasons."

Trailbreaker broke, sobbing as Jazz hugged him. Prowl looked uncomfortable, and Jazz rolled his head and looked at him. "Trailbreaker's in a long term relationship with a friend of mine, and our friend is lost – he's in the military, and he was on a shuttle to the second moon. Since they're not bonded and TB isn't military, TB's kind of cut out of the loop."

"Why aren't they bonded?" Prowl asked, then raised his hand. "I'm sorry. That was personal, please forgive my intrusive question."

Trailbreaker shook his head and told Prowl, "It's because Hound, my partner, feels that we're missing something; there's a dimension we're lacking. I respect him enough to not push."

"But…do you believe him?" Prowl asked, honestly astonished.

"I believe in him. Hound would never lie about something this important, so even if I don't feel it, I trust that he does." Trailbreaker answered. Jazz continued to hug him, but address himself to Prowl.

"I'm sorry, Prowl. Trailbreaker needs me right now, and I can't finish the work we started. Could we arrange another meeting time?"

"Of course, Jazz. I understand. I'll let myself out. Trailbreaker, I hope things turn out well."

"Thank you." Trailbreaker said.

Prowl gathered the diagrams and other papers and slid them into his portfolio before letting himself out. Jazz's spark gave a lurch as he left, and he bowed over Trailbreaker in sorrow for both TB and for himself. Continued contact between he and Prowl was not helping his spark get over Prowl and was, in fact, causing him to hope there could be something between them.

* * *

><p>The next cycle, Prowl was commed by Jazz.<p>

"Hi, Prowl. Thanks for your understanding last night. I really appreciate it." Jazz said as soon as Prowl answered his comm.

"You're welcome. Have they found the shuttle?" Prowl asked.

"Yes, they did. A thruster went out and they crash-landed on the moon. No severe injuries, and everyone was rescued." Jazz sounded relieved.

"I'm glad. How is your friend?" Prowl swiftly finished examining the permit he had and made the electronic print that signified his approval, then set it in his approved stack, all while speaking with Jazz.

"Trailbreaker's fine. He got to talk to Hound, and I think that made his cycle all better." Jazz laughed, delighted to be able to relay good news. "I'm calling to reschedule our meeting."

Prowl checked his schedule. "I'm free after work this cycle, if that's convenient for you."

Jazz agreed, and they decided to meet at a small café near Jazz's apartment. Jazz felt a lift in his spark at the thought of seeing Prowl again. He didn't begrudge listening to Trailbreaker and helping him, but it had been a very brief internal struggle to do what he knew was right and help Trailbreaker. He worried about the meaning of his growing attachment to Prowl.

* * *

><p>They continued to meet occasionally, and Prowl found himself in the circle of Jazz's friends, accepted as a working mech. For him, it was a new experience, to simply be accepted as a mech and not as a lord. He met Hound, and in meeting him, understood Trailbreaker's trust in him. He met Sunstreaker and Sideswipe; the latter was not fooled at all and caught up with him in the hallway outside Jazz's apartment.<p>

"Jazz knows you're a lord, right?" Sideswipe asked, looming over the smaller mech in a not-quite threatening way.

"Yes, he does. I'm not trying to fool him." Prowl answered, wary of the fierce protectiveness Jazz's friend had.

"That's good. I'm glad to have met you, Lord Prowl." Sideswipe offered his hand, slipping easily into the role of non-threatening merchant.

Prowl nodded. "It was good to meet you, too."

After that, Prowl was a bit more cautious around Jazz's friends, making sure they understood that they were more co-workers than friends. It didn't seem to make a difference to Jazz's friends, who accepted him into their ranks with hardly a murmur, but Sideswipe approved and Prowl was easier in his processor.

* * *

><p>Jazz was a very social mech and he loved entertaining his friends, so he often had dinner parties. He invited Prowl to one of his dinner parties, and Prowl accepted. The lift to Jazz's spirits from Prowl's acceptance lasted two entire cycles.<p>

Hound and Trailbreaker, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, a mech named Bluestreak and a small mech named Windcharger were the guests. Prowl was getting more comfortable with Jazz's friends and he mingled, finding out that Sunstreaker was interested in Bluestreak and Jazz had thrown this party to help Sunstreaker spend time with Bluestreak. Prowl, for the most part, stood back and observed, but when Sideswipe came over, he welcomed him.

"Hello, Sideswipe."

"Hey, Prowl. How's that youth center in Kaon going?"

"I believe we'll have the plans finalized next orn and can start the reconstruction."

"What are you going to do with the younglings that are there?" Sideswipe wanted to know.

"With Jazz's help, we've arranged to move them temporarily to a center on the outskirts of Kaon. The reconstruction will be three orns, and Jazz has really helped with that aspect. He also went to Kaon, as I'm sure you know, and talked to the younglings."

Sideswipe grinned, "I hear he actually asked the younglings how they wanted to handle the construction."

Prowl nodded. "Yes, he did. It never occurred to us to take their wishes into consideration."

"Jazz has never forgotten what it was like to be in the home and to have so little control over your own life." Sideswipe said quietly, his optics intent on his brother, who was quietly talking to Bluestreak.

Prowl couldn't think of anything to say. Jazz was so confident and easy-going that it was sometimes difficult to remember how he'd grown up. Forcibly reminded of Jazz's disadvantaged start in life, Prowl opened his mouth, then closed it in the face of Sideswipe's knowing look.

"We've all managed to overcome our past, but it still shapes who we are." Sideswipe said.

Prowl looked at him. "All of you…?"

"Trailbreaker, Jazz, my brother and I, we all grew up in the centers. Kaon's a struggling town, and a lot of creators abandoned their younglings if they couldn't afford to keep them. The centers were good enough that the adult mechs didn't need to feel guilty that they couldn't raise their own young. So, yeah, we're all products of the youth centers, and we've all got a stake in them doing well, because it could have been us. We all donate credits and our time, but it's been a struggle against the coalition that was taking over the centers. It's taken the involvement of Lord Mirage to accomplish so much, and we appreciate his willingness to help the younglings of Kaon get the chances they need to be successful."

Prowl absorbed this new information – Jazz had been very up front about his origins and thus his intimate knowledge of the way the youth centers had operated, but Prowl had never realized that Jazz's friends had also overcome so much.

He gave Sideswipe a small bow. "Thank you for enlightening me, Sideswipe. I appreciate your trust."

Sideswipe shrugged. "You've shown that you know how to keep a secret, it seems like you needed to know why we're all so involved in this process."

Prowl nodded, his processor busy with absorbing and analyzing the new information, and then incorporating it into his planning.

A knock on Jazz's door had the buzz of conversation dying down as everyone looked over. Jazz made an 'I don't know' motion and went to answer the door.

"Lord Mirage!" Jazz exclaimed. "I didn't know I was expecting you. Please, come in."

Lord Mirage bowed and replied, "My apologies for arriving on your doorstep at such an inopportune moment. I'm looking for Lord Prowl; is he here?"

"He is," Jazz answered, "come on in."

Lord Mirage stepped in, his optics sweeping the room before alighting on Prowl. He made his way over and passed Prowl a datapad. Prowl glanced at it, then walked over to Jazz.

"May I use your berth room? I'd like privacy to listen to this."

"Sure, Prowl." Jazz waved him down the short hallway, and Prowl disappeared into Jazz's berth room, closing the door behind him. By now, Jazz was more used to the lurches of his spark and ignored the flare of arousal at the thought of Prowl in his berth room.

Jazz came over and said to Lord Mirage, "May I introduce you around? My friends would like to meet you."

"Oh, of course. I'd be honored." Lord Mirage arrayed himself next to Jazz, who made the introductions.

"My lord, this is Sideswipe and Windcharger." Jazz started with the mechs closest to them.

"Sideswipe, the import merchant?" Lord Mirage questioned.

"The same, my lord." Sideswipe bowed to Mirage.

"Very nice to meet you, Sideswipe. Windcharger." Mirage said.

"My lord." Windcharger answered, also bowing.

Jazz steered him to the next two mechs. "This is Bluestreak and Sunstreaker."

"Bluestreak, it's nice to meet you. Sunstreaker, are you the artist?" Mirage asked, bowing to them.

"Yes, my lord, I am." Sunstreaker replied.

"A pleasure, then. I enjoy your work." Mirage answered.

"Thank you, my lord." Sunstreaker bowed again.

"And this is Trailbreaker," Jazz continued the introductions, "and his mate, Hound."

Mirage and Trailbreaker exchanged bows, Trailbreaker not looking up from the floor as he bowed. Then Mirage turned to Hound and froze as their optics met. Instead of bowing, he reached out, met by Hound's hand half way between their bodies. Their hands touched before Mirage came back to himself and stepped back, giving Hound a short, formal bow. Trailbreaker's optics were fastened on the pair, intent on Mirage.

Prowl came out of the hallway just then and made his way over to Jazz and Mirage.

"Jazz, I apologize. My creator has sent me an urgent message, and I must go to him; a family emergency. Mirage, may I catch a ride with you?" Prowl gave the information quickly, but quietly.

"Of course. " Jazz responded, even as his spark felt as if it had dropped to the bottom of its chamber.

Mirage said, "It was a pleasure to meet you all. Good-bye." He moved toward the door, followed by Prowl.

The quiet that permeated the room after their departure felt odd to Jazz, and he looked over at Hound, who had his face buried in Trailbreaker's chest while TB's arms were wrapped tightly around Hound.

"Hound, are you alright?" Jazz asked. His question brought the attention of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to their friends.

"Hound?" Sideswipe asked.

Hound raised his head. "I'm fine. Sorry about that. Jazz, I'm starving, are you ever going to feed us?"

Jazz laughed, playing along with Hound's diversion. "Right, right, sorry about that! Windcharger, Sideswipe, would you help me?"

They moved over to the dining area and started setting the edibles on the table. Sunstreaker and Bluestreak moved over slowly. Trailbreaker wrapped Hound in a hug and held him for a moment. Jazz watched them carefully, unsure what, exactly, had happened between Hound and Mirage.

The dinner party continued, more subdued due to the odd leaving of Prowl, but through careful conversation, Jazz managed to get Bluestreak to loosen up and join in the conversation, and Sunstreaker enjoyed getting to know Bluestreak, while Sideswipe and Jazz enjoyed getting to know the impulsive Windcharger, who caused them to laugh with his ability to blurt whatever crossed his processor. He was sheepish about it, but Jazz and Sideswipe were not unkind and he was soon laughing with them.

They broke into small groups, each leaving as they needed. The twins left together, while Bluestreak and Windcharger left shortly thereafter. Hound and Trailbreaker lingered, and Jazz turned back into the room after saying good-bye to Windcharger to find Trailbreaker clearing the table while Hound paced in front of Jazz's big window. Deciding that pushing Hound was not the best idea, Jazz went and helped Trailbreaker. They worked in silence until Hound broke the quiet.

"TB, did you feel it too?"

Trailbreaker set the dish of energon candies down, turning toward Hound to give his full attention to his mate.

"Yes, I felt something."

Hound looked at him, his optics full of sadness. "That's why. That's what we're missing."

Trailbreaker moaned and reached for Hound, who came to his arms and curled into the bigger mech's body.

Jazz was stupefied. Mirage was the missing piece that Hound had been waiting for? He was the reason Hound and Trailbreaker hadn't bonded? But he was a lord, a Towers mech and out of their reach. His spark ached for his friends.

And for himself. He was falling for Prowl, maybe not as quickly as Hound had fallen for Mirage, but it was still a sparkbreak waiting to happen.

* * *

><p>A couple of cycles later, Trailbreaker commed Jazz and asked if they could meet. Jazz already had a meeting arranged with Lord Prowl, and he asked if the café where he was to meet with Prowl would be convenient for Trailbreaker and Hound. Getting agreement from TB, he arranged the time and went back to his work.<p>

Walking toward the café later, Jazz saw Trailbreaker and Hound coming from the other direction and waved to them. They waved back, exchanging greetings when they were closer to each other.

Hound looked terrible. Jazz could see the worry on Trailbreaker's face, and he quickly bought them energon shakes, afraid that Hound had forgotten to eat and knowing that the shakes would act as a meal.

All the tables outside were filled, so they found a table in a corner of the café where Jazz could watch the door, but they could talk quietly.

Jazz opened the conversation, "How are you two doing?"

Trailbreaker shrugged, his fingers gliding through the condensation on the sides of his drink container. "I'm fine. Hound is," he looked at his mate before finishing, "kind of a mess right now."

Hound dropped his head into his hands. Jazz didn't know what to say, so he looked to Trailbreaker. Trailbreaker simply laid a hand on Hound's back and waited. Finally, Hound raised his head.

"Do you think it's possible, Jazz?" Hound asked.

Jazz was confused. "Do I think what's possible?"

"Love at first sight." Hound answered. "Do you think it really happens?"

Jazz sat back and thought about the question. Did he believe in it? He wrote about it, he made a living writing about it, but did he really believe in it?

He leaned forward and answered Hound as honestly as he could. "I believe it happens, but I think love is more than the instant connection of sparks and processors. I think it requires real work for real mechs to get along with each other, and it's harder than it appears to be. The instant attraction stuff is a hint that this person could be your mate, but it's not a guarantee that the relationship will actually work out."

Hound shuddered. "I was raised by two mechs that fell in love instantly, and stayed in love. They were poor in credits but rich in love, and we were all raised by them to believe in the power of love, and that we would know instantly who our mates were by our spark's reaction to them. I had that reaction with Trailbreaker, but it didn't emfeel/em complete. I hated turning Trailbreaker down when he wanted to bond, but…"

"You wanted it to feel perfect." Trailbreaker said, his hand gripping Hound's.

"Yeah, I did." Hound said.

"So…how does this factor in?" Jazz said.

Trailbreaker sat back and began to speak. "There are mechs and femmes for whom one other is sufficient. However, there are a large minority of Cybertronians that are not meant to be pairs, but to be more. Seekers, for example, are always trines. Always. Sometimes there can be more than three, but at a minimum, they are a triad. There are teams out there that are bonded all the way around…ten mechs or so, and it works for them. Hound and I were not meant to be a pair, and in the deepest moments of intimacy, I agreed with him that we, just the two of us, were incomplete. It wouldn't be fair for us to bond without our missing member."

"Mirage," guessed Jazz.

"Evidently," Trailbreaker agreed, "but how do we go about doing this? He's a lord, rich beyond our imagination, and why would he want to bond with a pair of common mechs like us? We don't even know how to get in touch with him!"

Jazz shook his head. "I can ask him next time I see him if it would be alright for me to pass along his comm link to you."

Hound muttered, "It still doesn't answer why he'd want to talk to us."

Jazz said, "I know, but it's better than nothing, right?"

"I suppose so," Trailbreaker told him. "so, yes, please, we'd like it if you could do that for us."

The door opened at that moment, and Lord Prowl came in. What froze them all was the mech that trailed behind him.

Mirage.

* * *

><p>Jazz kept an optic on Mirage, Hound and Trailbreaker even as he was talking to Prowl, finalizing the interior changes to the center that they'd been discussing for two orns. He stopped talking when Hound and Trailbreaker stood, said good-bye to Mirage, and left. He looked at Prowl, whose optics were intent on Mirage, then briefly bowed his head and said farewell to his dreams. Prowl's optics were too knowing, and Jazz was not slow-processored. There was a history between Prowl and Mirage, and against a lord of Mirage's caliber, Jazz stood no chance. His spark felt as if it were breaking.<p>

Prowl stood and walked over to Mirage, steering him to the table where Jazz still sat. He rose and grabbed a chair for Mirage that was not occupied and helped Prowl seat the noblemech. Prowl kept a careful optic on Mirage as he returned to the plans. Jazz played along and they were able to finish the interior changes to their mutual satisfaction. Prowl took the plans and returned them to their portfolio for safekeeping before taking Mirage's hand.

Mirage looked up at him, and Jazz felt as if he'd stumbled into their berth room at a very private moment. They didn't need to say anything to each other, a single glance was enough to communicate everything.

Prowl stood and pulled Mirage up. "Dom Jazz, I thank you for your time and energy on this project. I know we have a couple more things to review, but for right now, I need to escort Lord Mirage to his home. Will you excuse us?"

Jazz had risen to his peds as Prowl spoke, and he gave them a bow and replied, "I understand. I'll be available when you need me, Lord Prowl. Lord Mirage, I wish you the best."

Mirage nodded and Prowl escorted him out. Jazz sank into his chair, watching them leave, his spark shattering within his chest.

* * *

><p>Two cycles later, Prowl called Mirage and asked him to arrange a transport. Mirage came himself, wanting to offer his friend support. He picked Prowl up at the prestigious medical center which catered to the wealthy and helped Prowl out to the transport.<p>

"Prowl?"

"My carrier has suffered a catastrophic pump failure." Prowl said, his voice and posture weary.

"Oh, Primus. Will she be alright?" Mirage held his friend close.

"Yes. By the grace of Primus the medics were able to save her. She's very weak, and she will take some time to recover."

"How is your creator?" Mirage asked, his spark aching for his friend and his family.

"He's…holding up." Prowl answered.

Mirage sat back in the plush seating of his family's transport and stated, "There's more."

Prowl laughed. It was a bitter sound. "Yes. My carrier would like our bonding to occur soon, so she can attend it."

Mirage stammered, "But…it's too soon!"

Prowl nodded. "Yes, it is."

Mirage looked up and asked, "Where are we going?"

"I have a meeting with Dom Jazz, and I do not wish to put it off."

Mirage shrugged. "Alright. Do you think he'll mind if I'm there?"

Prowl shook his head. "No, I don't. If you're uncomfortable, you can always move to another table."

Mirage agreed, "Yes, I could. How long will this take?"

"A few joors. Not long, really. We're finalizing the interior design of the center. Dom Jazz has some very good ideas."

Mirage nodded and waited until the transport drew to a stop in a location that was convenient for them to get out. Prowl exited, followed by Mirage. They walked together along the causeway for Cybertronians in vehicle mode until they reached the walkway reserved for root mode mechs. Prowl led them to an energon café and entered the tiny building. Most of the mechs were on the walkway, enjoying the day cycle.

Jazz was inside, and he wasn't alone. Two of his friends were with him, and the three stood as Prowl and Mirage made their way over to them. Mirage's spark started beating erratically as he recognized Hound and Trailbreaker.

They commandeered another table, and Mirage went with Hound and Trailbreaker, leaving Prowl and Jazz together. He clasped his hands together to still their trembling and looked at the two mechs.

Hound was stocky, but his face was kind. Trailbreaker's expression was more difficult to read because he wore a visor over his optics and his face was all black, making minute changes to his expression almost impossible to see. Both, however, elicited a pull on his spark.

The silence became unbearable, and Trailbreaker broke first.

"What are we going to do about this?" He asked, fear hushing his voice.

Mirage opened his mouth, then closed it again. Hound's face, which had started to light up, fell again, and he shook his head.

"Nothing. We're not doing anything, are we?"

Mirage, stung, asked, "Why are you asking me?"

Hound gave a short bark of bitter laughter. "Because you're the one that can make us or break us."

Mirage shook his head. "I'm affianced. The bonding was arranged when I was still a sparkling. There's no way for me to get out of it. I must bond to my betrothed."

Hound nodded. "As I thought. I'm sorry we've bothered you." He made a movement, as if to stand. Mirage reached across and grasped his wrist, stopping the motion. Hound froze for a moment, then reseated himself, staring down at Mirage's hand on his plating.

Mirage was having troubles of his own. Just touching had sent an electrical thrill through his entire body, and his vents felt as if they'd forgotten how to work. He snatched his hand back, tucking it in his lap like a youngling caught reaching for something he shouldn't have.

Trailbreaker's vents were working hard as he stared at where their bodies had met. Hound reached for him and Trailbreaker seized his hand, holding on for dear life.

"I can't." Mirage said. "I can't dishonor my family. You'll have to bond yourselves to each other and go on with your lives."

Trailbreaker nodded. "We'll always know, though, that you're missing."

Mirage shook his head. "You will get over it." He hoped his statement was true. The ache in his spark was intensifying, and he wondered if it was proximity that was causing the pain.

Hound stared at him, and Mirage met his gaze squarely, holding onto the truth he believed and hoping it shone through his optics. Hound nodded, then stood and pulled at Trailbreaker.

"C'mon, TB. There's nothing for us here." They stood together, looking down at Mirage, who slowly rose to his peds. They spoke as one being. "Good-bye."

* * *

><p>Jazz was sitting in his apartment when his door buzzed. He got up and went to the intercom system and pressed the button.<p>

"Yeah?" He was tired and discouraged, but didn't want to turn away a friend in need.

"It's Prowl. May I come up?" Prowl's voice was tinny and low. Jazz dropped his head on the wall next to the intercom, debating his course of action. Finally, he pressed the button to open the outer door, then opened his own door.

Prowl came up the stairs quietly. His optics met Jazz's, watchful and yet with a deep pain in them. Jazz felt his spark sink deeper at that look.

With a motion, he invited Prowl into his home and followed him in, shutting the door behind him. Prowl made straight for the big window, looking out blankly onto the glittering lights of the city.

He leaned against a wall, watching Prowl. Finally, Prowl seemed to gather himself and looked around, his optics going straight to Jazz. Prowl walked over and offered his hand to Jazz. After a moment's consideration, Jazz took his hand and let Prowl lead him over to the seating in front of the window. Prowl seated himself after settling Jazz in his favorite seat. He did not speak immediately, so Jazz asked the question that had been burning through his processor.

"What's Mirage to you?"

Prowl answered him honestly. "He is my affianced partner. We have been pledged to each other since I was three cycles old."

Jazz choked. "You were only three cycles old? What were your creators thinking?"

Prowl answered stiffly. "They were thinking that the merger of our two families via a bonding would consolidate their business holdings in a manner that would not be easily undone, unlike a normal merger or a negotiated business arrangement."

"Or a simple contract?" Jazz guessed.

"Exactly." Prowl said, nodding. "So…I'm not free."

Jazz nodded. "Yeah, I kinda got that this cycle. No hope for someone to come in and break you two up, huh?"

Prowl leaned forward and reached for Jazz, who pulled back away from Prowl's touch. Prowl straightened and withdrew his hand.

"My apologies. I…did not mean to mislead you." Prowl said quietly.

Jazz laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Why not have an affair? Isn't that what Towers mechs do?"

Prowl looked at him. "You seem to be operating under a misapprehension, Jazz. I would not do that to Mirage, first of all, and even if I was not involved with Mirage, I would not do that to you. I think more highly of you than that."

Jazz was shaking his head. "No."

Prowl moved, grabbing Jazz by the shoulders and pulling him close. They both froze, Jazz's optics wide and Prowl's spark beating so frantically Jazz could hear it. Prowl made his fingers let go of Jazz.

Jazz stood up slowly and put the seat between them. He clutched the back of the seat, staring down at his hands.

"I can't…I need to keep living my life. I wish you could be a part of it, but if you can't, I can't stop living." He raised his head and look at Prowl, a lopsided attempt at a smile crossing his face plates.

Prowl hung his head. "I understand."

Jazz told him, "I'd like for you to leave, please. Don't…don't come back." He looked up at Prowl, letting the anguish he felt show. "Please. Don't try to see me again. Ask…ask Mirage to find someone else to help with the youth center."

Prowl nodded. "I will." He stood, moving toward the door. He stopped next to Jazz and without looking at him, said, "I wish it could be different for us."

Jazz whispered, "Me, too."

As Prowl left, he lost the tenuous control over his emotions and sank down, sobs forcing their way through his intakes. He cried for what could have been, for falling in love and being unable to really love, for the pain of loss. He felt very lonely.


	3. Chapter 3

Mirage paced around the small sitting room, his personal haven within his family's enclave. He rubbed his chest, his spark aching.

A tap on the door caused him to spin around. Venting hard, he finally got control and managed a creditably smooth, "Yes?"

"My lord, Lord Prowl is here." Pads, his personal butler, announced.

Mirage said, "Please escort him to the large sitting room; I will be there in a klik."

The butler murmured, "Yes, my lord."

Mirage strode into his berth room, checking himself in the mirrored surface. His armor was gleaming and he looked good. Nodding to his reflection, he exited his berth room and headed for the larger sitting room.

Prowl was standing in front of the window, his hands clasped behind his back. Mirage entered the room and walked toward Prowl, who turned when Mirage was half way across the room.

"Mirage. Thank you for receiving me."

"I'm always home to you, Prowl. What can I help you with?"

Prowl uncharacteristically looked down at the floor. "I would like to ask you to find someone else to work with Dom Jazz on this project."

Mirage was taken aback. "Why? Has he offended you in some manner?"

Prowl rushed to reassure him. "No, he has been nothing but proper and helpful."

Mirage waited. Prowl would never prevaricate with him if he had the patience to wait for Prowl to formulate his response.

"I am…inappropriately…attracted to Dom Jazz, and I am finding it difficult to…focus on the project." Prowl explain haltingly.

Mirage was blithe with his answer. "Have an affair with him and get him out of your systems."

Prowl whirled and looked Mirage in the optics. "Are you going to do that with Hound and Trailbreaker?"

Mirage backed away, fear stabbing at his circuits. "No!" He remembered the touch between he and Hound, the shock to his systems, the way his spark had thrummed and throbbed.

"Why not? Get them out of your circuits, Mirage. They're just commoners, not worthy of anything more from us, right?"

Mirage was shaking his head, unable to form coherent thoughts. Prowl took pity on him.

"They have your spark, don't they? Well, I'm feeling the same way about Dom Jazz. If I touch him, I won't be able to let him go. He'll have my spark, my life, everything that I am. Unfortunately for that scenario, everything that I am is promised to you, Mirage. I can't risk it."

Mirage sat down, trembling. "Yes. Yes, that's why…"

"You've done nothing since you met them?" Prowl said softly, coming over to sit beside Mirage.

Mirage whispered, "Our families entered us into a pact so long ago…I've always known that you and I would bond and that our families would become even more powerful because they were connected through us."

"And we would have sparklings, as many as possible, since both our families have had too few sparklings and we are the last." Prowl summed up.

"Yes." Mirage said quietly.

Prowl stood and moved away, once again looking out the window. Mirage joined him after a klik and they stood side by side, gazing out over the city from their vantage point.

"If we…" Mirage began.

Prowl interrupted him. "We can't."

Mirage sighed and leaned his forehelm against Prowl's shoulder.

"I will ask someone else to step in with Dom Jazz." Mirage said softly.

Prowl told him, "I am being sent to Vos to help with a planning problem there, so that's as good an excuse as any for my absence. I was putting it off until the youth center was finished, but I think making Vos a higher priority would be the wisest course of action."

Mirage lifted his head and peered at Prowl. Prowl turned his helm and returned the look. A wealth of anguish was in Prowl's optics, and Mirage knew his optics had the same hurt in them.

Prowl stepped back and said, "I'll be going now. Thank you for taking care of this, Mirage."

"You're welcome, Prowl." Mirage stepped back to let his affianced leave.

* * *

><p>Mirage buried himself in his chosen work, asking Hammer to step in for Prowl and finish the planning of the new youth center with Jazz while Mirage himself took on the task of arranging for the workers. He was very lucky to find a superb team that had just come off a government job and had three orns before their next job started. They were very willing to be put to work on Mirage's short-term project, and he enjoyed meeting with the team leader, Hook, to go over the details.<p>

The younglings were moved to their temporary home and the real work began. Mirage rented a room in Kaon's finest hotel, while Jazz merely rented a walk-up apartment over a store close to the youth center. He and Jazz were very careful around each other, the unspoken things between them a field of explosives, only needing a misstep to blow up and damage everything and everyone around them.

Mirage was well aware of Jazz's pain, but he was dealing with his own. He was always afraid that when he called Jazz or came by to pick him up, Trailbreaker or Hound would be there and his spark ache would flare anew. He and Prowl commed each other almost daily, Prowl desiring news of Jazz even if he couldn't be around him, and giving the excuse that he wanted to know how their mutual project was going. Mirage indulged him, giving him the daily progress and always dropping a tidbit of information about Jazz.

Prowl showed up at his hotel room an orn before they were finished. Hook and his mechs were the best of the best and the project was slated to be finalized three cycles before they had planned. Prowl wanted to see the results. Mirage just gave him a look, and Prowl shrugged.

"He's there, Prowl. He's always there. He's thrown himself into the project with his whole spark. He finished his latest novel and sent it to his publisher, so he has nothing to do but be here." Mirage told him, stepping back to let Prowl into his room.

"I know, Mirage, but…" Prowl paced. Mirage watched, astonished. Prowl was always reasonable and calm, and Mirage had never, in all the time he'd know him, seen Prowl pace.

"Prowl…" Mirage began. He stopped. He had no idea what to say. Prowl turned and looked at him.

Mirage moved quickly. He walked up to Prowl and said, "This isn't going to work. We're going to drown ourselves in sorrow if we can't figure out something to get us out of this. You can't even stay away from him, and my spark hurts all the time. This isn't fair to either of us, Prowl. You're the planner. What can we do?"

Prowl stopped. "We have to bond, Mirage."

"Why?" Mirage wanted to know. "When your creators pass on to the Matix, you'll be the head of your family. When my creators' creators pass on, I'll be the head of my family. Why do we have to be bonded to do business together?"

Prowl looked at him, his mouth open to answer. He closed it again, shrugging Mirage's hands off. Mirage released him; Prowl was emthinking/em about this situation, analyzing it for the first time instead of reacting to it.

Prowl paced around the room for three joors, Mirage sitting and watching him, waiting patiently. Finally, Prowl joined Mirage in a chair.

"What would you do if we were not pledged to each other?" Prowl asked.

Mirage looked at him. Prowl's expression was neutral; carefully blank and waiting for Mirage's answer.

Mirage said quietly, "No offense to you, but I would find Hound and Trailbreaker and see if we could have a real relationship. What would you do?"

Prowl answered just as quietly. "I would see if Jazz and I could have a real relationship."

"I do not want to have an affair with them; to be honest, I feel that the false relationship would be with you, Prowl, and they would become my reality." Mirage told him.

"Yes. I agree. Therefore, we can not bond. It would be a false contract, entered into on both our parts with the intent to not honor it in our sparks." Prowl stated.

"But…how can we get out of this?" Mirage wanted to know.

"I don't know. I don't even know the details of the contract." Prowl was thinking aloud. "My carrier…she's the key. She's the one that wants our bonding moved up, and…I need to go speak with her."

Mirage nodded. "May Primus be with you."

Prowl grinned at him, and Mirage was glad to see that having a course of action had lifted Prowl's spirits. "Take care of him for me?"

Mirage answered with his own smile, "I'll try, Prowl."

The next cycle, Mirage got a comm from Prowl that his carrier was upset and wanted to think about what Prowl had told her. They made soothing noises at each other, but Mirage's spark felt leaden in his chest, and he approached the youth center feeling horrible.

Jazz avoided him, and Mirage understood that. Mirage was a reminder of all that Jazz could not have, and he was escaping the pain by channeling his energy into helping younglings escape the dreary life of Kaon's streets. He didn't need the reminder that Mirage provided. Mirage did his best to help by staying back and watching, letting Jazz be the face of the committee for Hook and his men.

Prowl's next communiqué asked for Mirage to come back and speak with his carrier. Mirage went to the youth center and waited for Jazz to notice him. When Jazz did, he was hesitant to approach Mirage until Mirage stepped forward and spoke.

"Dom Jazz, I must return to my home to take care of some business. I'd like for you to continue supervising the job, and I will return in a couple of cycles."

Jazz nodded. "Yes, Lord Mirage. I'll do that."

"Thank you." Mirage took his leave, making sure Hook knew that Jazz was in charge, and arranged for a private transport back to the Towers.

* * *

><p>Once at the Towers, Mirage went to his own suite, where his servants cleaned and polished him. He then went up several floors and presented himself to Lady Lyric, Prowl's carrier.<p>

Lady Lyric was a tall femme, taller than her mate or her creation. In a less civilized time, she would have been a warrior, but having Lord Skirl fall in love with her and bond with her had given her resources to modify the naturally bulky plating her configuration called for, giving her an elegant composition. Mirage made his bow to the lady and went through the polite formalities of having warmed energon and oilcakes and quiet conversation.

After the first cup of energon was drunk, however, Lady Lyric turned the conversation to more practical matters.

"Mirage, I know I'm being intrusive, but I must ask. My dear creation came to me with a fantastical story. He claims to have found his sparkmate, and he claims that you are not the object of his adoration. Is this true?"

Mirage took time to compose his answer. "My lady. I honor and respect Lord Prowl; I hope you know that. I would not do anything deliberately to hurt or dishonor him."

Lady Lyric absorbed this, then replied, "You did not answer my question, Lord Mirage."

"My lady, I would not wish to cause you distress." Mirage answered.

Lyric regarded him. Prowl's birth had been hard on her, and her spark casing had been badly damaged, causing her to be unable to create again. This damage had strained her main pump, which is why she had spent time in the medical center a few orns prior, and why there was a push to see Prowl bonded. Both she and Skirl were worried that her replacement pump would not be able to save her, and seeing Prowl settled and happy was the deepest desire of Lady Lyric's spark. Undue strain or stress was not called for, and Mirage was doing everything he could to not add to her stress.

Abruptly, the lady stood and told Mirage, "Come with me."

He hasten to do as he was bid and followed on her heels as she led him out of the main receiving room and down an elegant hallway. She opened a door and entered the room, then turned to him and said, "In this room, I demand and give total honesty. If you can't do that, please leave now." She waited, her optics watchful.

He peered around her. It was her private room. Mirage's carrier had also had such a room, and it had been filled with datapads of novels, plush cloths to drape her frame in, comfortable seats and lounging chairs and artwork she had been especially fond of looking at and admiring. Lady Lyric's private room was a workshop. There were coils of wires, bits of metal, sheets of plate metal, and tools scattered everywhere. Obviously, while Lady Lyric had adapted to life in the Towers, she had not left her roots completely behind. He entered the room.

Lyric grabbed a high stool and pushed it toward Mirage, then grabbed her own from under the main workbench and sat on it easily, the vorns of doing so giving her a smoothness as she moved around in the room where she felt most comfortable.

"Thank you, Mirage. I'll start. I'm tired of playing these games. I want Prowl to be happy, and he is obfusticating."

Mirage smiled slightly and said, "You mean, he's not telling you the truth."

"Or at least, he's not being completely honest with me."

Mirage looked at her carefully. She was much more comfortable here, her entire frame more relaxed than he'd ever had the privilege of seeing, and she seemed a completely different femme here.

He decided to gamble and repay her honesty with his own. "Prowl and I have had the very great privilege to meet and work with a mech that has made his own way in the world and been very successful at doing so. He is honest, and funny, and bright, and very attractive. He and Prowl seem to balance each other very well."

Lyric continued to look at him. "How would you feel if Prowl broke the pact made between you?"

The subject Mirage was not so comfortable with. He stood, pacing about the room as he thought about her question. Lyric waited patiently, the smile on her lip plates growing the longer he didn't speak. Finally, Mirage turned to her and replied, "I…would not object for reasons of my own."

Lyric cocked her head and looked at him closely. "Prowl did not say so, but I'm getting the impression that your spark has also been claimed, Mirage."

Startled, Mirage looked sharply at Lyric. Her optics were kind. "What is really the problem, Mirage?"

He gave her the truth. "The families pledged us for a reason, Lady Lyric. We don't know what that reason is, because he was three cycles old and I was only a few orns old at the time. "

Lyric bowed her head slightly. "I'm afraid your troth is my doing. I wanted Prowl to be accepted, even though he was half commoner, and your families are the two most powerful families in the Towers. If you and Prowl bonded, there would be no question of his acceptance anywhere on Cybertron. I was…worried that he would be treated as I had been."

"As an outsider." Mirage stated.

"Yes." Lyric agreed.

"Do you think that if Prowl and I break our pledge to each other, there will be repercussions like that for you and Lord Skirl?"

She shrugged. "Possibly, but it matters less to me now. Skirl and I are thinking of retiring to our country estate and only using the Towers suite when we have business here."

Mirage nodded. "It would probably be less stressful."

Lyric laughed, and Mirage grinned back at her.

"I'm glad, Mirage, that you have been raised so differently, that you do not believe a mech or femme's worth is tied to the number of credits they have."

Mirage nodded. "I, too, am glad. I believe you will have to thank my carrier's creator, though. Her murder made him a changed mech, and he's the one that sat with me and taught me to evaluate a whole mech or femme, not just their bank account. He had always held himself accountable for her murder."

"I am sorry for her loss, but there was much good that came out of her deactivation." Lyric said softly.

"Yes, there was. Getting back on topic, Prowl and I both can not imagine continuing to move forward with our pledged troth. I would not stop having Prowl as my very good friend and a mech I trust, and I believe we would continue to do business together, probably better than if we were bonded." Mirage told her.

Lyric smiled sadly. "But would that make him happy? Would you be happy without him?"

Mirage moved and clasped her hands. "Meet him. The mech, I mean. You'd understand if you met him. And…I, too, have fallen spark over heels in love, and I would like for you to meet them. I think you'd like them." He was nervous about exposing this much to someone who could use this information against him, but he was feeling that Lady Lyric really wanted the best for her only creation, and that did not mean the most money, but the greatest happiness.

She clung to his hands, then nodded. "Yes. Yes, I think I will. Could you arrange such a meeting?"

Mirage grinned. "Come to Kaon with me. That's where Jazz is, and you can meet him without Prowl knowing."

Entering into the spirit of the venture, she smiled and nodded. "Alright. Let's do that."

* * *

><p>Lord Hammer took over Prowl's duties in planning the youth center. The first time he and Jazz met, he held Jazz's hand for a moment, then looked at him and told him, "I'm sorry."<p>

Jazz nodded, not trusting himself to say anything for a moment, then choked out, "Thank you. Shall we finish these plans?"

"Yes. Lord Prowl briefed me fully, so let's finalize as much as we can. Lord Mirage has found a crew to do the work, and they have a very brief window in between jobs, so we have to be ready for them to start."

"When can they start?" Jazz asked.

"In half an orn. They have another job three orns after that, but they're confident they can get this job done, especially since we've done so much of the preliminary work."

Jazz nodded. "I just finished my latest novel and can take a short break before starting the next one. I'd like to be there for the construction."

Hammer nodded, "I'll let Mirage know."

"Thank you." Jazz said.

They continued their work. They were meeting in Hammer's office, and Jazz was grateful that they were not meeting somewhere he would have memories of Prowl. It helped him focus on the task at hand. Jazz realized how much time he and Prowl had spent talking about their lives, their thoughts and their hopes when he and Hammer accomplished more in a shorter period of time than he and Prowl had ever done in one meeting. Internally chastened, he vowed to do better if he continued his charitable work, although he felt that he would have to break away from Mirage for fear of seeing Prowl after they bonded. Grief struck at his spark, and he faltered in his explanation to Lord Hammer, who merely gave him a sympathetic glance and gave him a klik to recover his composure.

When the orn was over and construction was about to begin, Jazz shut his apartment and found a small walk-up set of rooms very near the youth center. He bargained for his rent, glad that he hadn't lost his touch when it came to such things. He went with the younglings when they rode the transport to their temporary home, and arranged with the director to send updates to the younglings daily so they could see the progress themselves.

Then he threw himself headlong into the project, always available for consultation, watching the construction crew carefully, taking image captures to send to the younglings, and keeping himself so busy he didn't have time to think about his pain.

He avoided Mirage for the most part, until one cycle when Mirage approached him and told him he had business back in the Towers and that Jazz was in charge until Mirage got back. Beyond that, Jazz's cycles blurred into one another, each cycle a frenzy of busyness until he could collapse on his berth and recharge until the next cycle.

So he was not expecting the knock on his door just after he'd come back to the cheap little apartment for his recharge. When he answered the door, a femme stood before him.

"I ain't interested in what you're selling." Jazz said, stepping back to close the door again.

The femme slapped her hand on the door and stopped it in its arc. Jazz gulped. At a second glance, she was not one of the femmes or mechs that sold their bodies to make a living. Her plating was gleaming, the paint was of the highest quality, overlain by a beautiful wax. Everything on her was of the finest make. His intakes stuttered as he realized he'd just insulted a lady.

"No, little mech, I think you are. May I come in?" She purred at him. He squirmed under her look.

"Yes, m'lady." Jazz answered, stepping back, trying to make amends for his insult.

"Excellent." She strode forward, barely giving the room a glance before turning back to Jazz and looking him over.

"Can I offer you a seat?" Jazz stammered.

"You can. Will you?" She asked, arching an optic ridge.

Jazz pulled up. He'd already displayed very bad manners, he could do better on grammar.

"My lady, may I offer you this seat?" Jazz indicated the best chair in the room. Graciously, she nodded and seated herself. Jazz pulled out a stool and seated himself, waiting for her lead.

She took her time, looking him over before getting up and walking around him.

"I am Lady Lyric. You are Jazz, are you not?"

"Yes, my lady. I am Jazz." He answered her nervously, worried about the reason a high quality femme would be here.

She nodded. "As I thought. I wanted to meet you, get to know you." She reseated herself and looked at Jazz expectantly.

Jazz asked, puzzled. "Why? Why me?"

She smiled at him. "My creation's name is Prowl. I believe you are familiar with him, yes?"

Jazz lunged to his feet and backed away from her. "I…"

She laughed, then stopped herself. "My apologies. You are as jumpy as my creation. Please, sit down. Tell me about yourself."

Jazz shook his head. "No. My lady, I am doing my best to stay away from him, to not interfere in his planned bond with Mirage, to get on with my life. I don't want to tell you about my life, because there's no reason for you to know."

"Actually," she said, leaning back in her seat, "there is a reason. Please, sit. Talk with me."

Jazz shuffled his feet, highly uncomfortable with this entire interview but unwilling to be more rude than he already had been. Finally, he edged onto the stool and waited.

"What is it that you do for a living, Jazz?" Lyric asked.

"I'm a novelist. I make a living writing romances." Jazz told her.

"How exciting! How did you get into that line of work?"

Jazz looked at her, agog. She sounded perfectly normal, not at all what he'd expected. He stuttered out a reply. "I jus'…I kinda fell into it at university. I had a knack for story-telling, and one o' th' professors there helped me submit my first story. It wasn't accepted, but the agent was real nice, gave me some pointers and tips, and when I got out, I followed up on his advice, the resubmitted it. While I was waiting to hear back from the publishing house, I found an agent." He shrugged. "I got lucky."

She nodded as if she understood. "Yes, but you took that luck and made something with it. A lot of mechs get lucky. Not everyone has the bearings to continue working after their luck comes in."

Jazz grinned at her. "Sounds like you know."

She agreed. "Yes. I was a mechanic when Lord Skirl met me. Did you know he broke his troth to bond with me?"

"Uh, no, I didn't." Jazz said.

She nodded and stood to walk around Jazz's room as she recounted, "He gave up a lot of prestige to bond with me, and I've always felt like an outsider. I wanted our only creation to have acceptance where I did not, and that's why I pushed for the pledge with Lord Mirage. Lord Mirage's creator, Illusion, was my bonded's intended mate. Thank Primus Illusion accepted me, or my life would have been miserable. Anyway, he was very open to having a pledge between our two creations and the mere act of having that pledge eased my path and made Prowl's life in the Towers a blessing rather than a curse."

"Oh. Well, that explains a lot." Jazz murmured, more to himself than to her.

Lyric agreed, "It does, doesn't it? However, it now appears that both Prowl and Mirage have found other mechs, and they would like to mutually break their troth."

Jazz had to ask the question. "Does that mean that Prowl won't be accepted any longer?"

Lyric shrugged. "I don't know. I think, no, I believe that Mirage will continue to be his friend and he will always have a supportive circle of younger mechs that will help him. Older mechs may try to reject him, but if Mirage continues to support him as a friend, that will ameliorate the effect of the more conservative mechs."

Jazz vented. "What do you want for Prowl?"

She came back and seated herself before leaning forward to look him straight in the optics. "Jazz, I want my creation to be happy. He assures me that while he and Mirage make good friends, they would not make good mates, and after talking to Mirage, I believe they both have given their sparks elsewhere. He works as common mech would, not having any desire to take part in the family business. I…I just want him to be happy, Jazz."

Jazz looked away. "I hear ya."

She moved forward and clasped his hand, "Please. Please give him a chance."

"My lady…" Jazz trailed off, uncertain what she wanted from him.

"Let him talk to you." She pleaded. "Let him…"

Jazz finally let some of his pain and anger show. "Let him seduce me? Let him…what? I have done nothing, emnothing at all/em, to come between them, to hurt them and now you want me to open myself to possible pain? How do I know this isn't all an act?"

Lyric smiled. "You don't. This is love. You have to gamble to gain. Please, let him talk to you."

Jazz glared at her. Her smile widened, and he couldn't keep up his anger in the face of that smile. He finally gave her a quick smile of his own.

"Excellent! Thank you, Jazz. I am sincerely looking forward to having you be a part of Prowl's life."

Helplessly, Jazz asked, "Aren't you rushing things a bit, my lady?"

Lyric stood as she answered, "Prowl has always know his own processor. His wants have always been few, but spark-felt and deep. When he truly wants something, he's always found a way to make it happen." She moved to the door. "Thank you, Jazz. It's been a pleasure, getting to know you."

Jazz stood and followed her to the door. "My lady, the streets are not safe."

She waved away his concern. "I have an escort, Jazz. I'll be fine."

He bowed her out the door. "As you wish, my lady." He closed the door after her and went to the window, watching. He saw Lord Mirage step out from a doorway across the street and join Lady Lyric. Satisfied that she did have an escort, Jazz sank back against the wall and then slid down, coming to rest on his hindquarters as he wondered what this visit would really mean to him.

* * *

><p>Mirage and Lyric rode the private transport to Kaon, where he arranged a room for her at the hotel where he was staying. They walked after that to where Jazz lived, and Mirage pointed out the outside stairway to Jazz's door. Then they went to the youth center and Mirage pointed Jazz out to Lyric, then kept her company until Jazz left the youth center for the day. He watched her climb the stairs and enter Jazz's rooms, then found a convenient wall to lean against and watch the door so he could escort her back to the hotel when she was done.<p>

When she came out, Mirage moved to meet her. He smiled at her and fell into step beside her. As they were walking back to the hotel, she spoke.

"I see what you mean. He's quite the character, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. I don't think he would be very successful at stifling that character of his for very long – he's too firmly himself and confident in who he is that have that shaken."

Lyric nodded. "I agree. So…let me talk to my mate. I'd like to meet your mechs, too, Mirage."

Mirage was hesitant. "I…I don't know where they live, Lyric."

"No, but you can find out." She smiled at him and left him in the lobby of the hotel, heading up to her room for recharge.

Mirage just stood in the lobby after she left him. Yes, he could find out where Hound and Trailbreaker lived, but…he could also ask Jazz. Jazz would understand why he was asking, he hoped.

* * *

><p>Mirage raised his hand and knocked on the door in front of him. A muffled scraping noise reached him, and he nervously took a step back before straightening his backstruts and resuming his former place just in front of the door.<p>

It opened, and Trailbreaker peered down at him. Shock, raw and visceral, flitted over his face before he could control it and assume a neutral expression.

"My lord. What can I do for you?" Trailbreaker's voice held a touch of frost, and Mirage raised his chin in subtle reply.

"You could invite me in," he answered.

In reply, Trailbreaker stepped back and said, "Please, won't you come into our humble domain?"

"Thank you," Mirage replied as he stroke forward.

He was in a small apartment, not nearly as nice as Jazz's. The rooms were smaller, there was not as much natural light, and there were few furnishings. There were two comfortable seats and a desk in the main room, with a tiny kitchen tucked in one corner. There was no dining area, and a small hallway led to a refreshing room and a small berth room, which Mirage could see with a quick glance down the hallway as he passed it.

Trailbreaker silently waved him to the smaller seat and waited until Mirage seated himself, then lowered his large frame to the other seat and waited.

Mirage fidgeted for a moment, then looked up at Trailbreaker. As his optics met the visor that shielded Trailbreaker's, that same lurch to his spark he'd come to associate with Hound struck, causing Mirage to raise his hand and rest it over his spark.

He was mirrored by Trailbreaker, who retracted his visor and looked Mirage straight in the optics.

The attraction swirled between them, ensnaring them until Mirage broke the gaze, dropping his optics and gasping for cool air to vent out the heat that was causing alerts to begin flashing, warning him of overheating.

Trailbreaker seemed to be having the same problem, his vents were expelling heated air and his mouth was open, soft gasps working out the hotter air.

Mirage was stunned. He'd had this reaction with Hound, had thought that because he hadn't had that reaction with Trailbreaker that it meant that he would bond with Hound and be done, that the relationship could be a set of two way bonds, with Hound in the center. This connection, however, was showing him that the entire relationship could be three-way, a bond between each of them, and suddenly Mirage was terrified of this new paradigm. He stood, trembling, prepared to make his way out. Trailbreaker mirrored him, rising as he did, reaching for Mirage.

The door opened and Hound came in, stopping suddenly at the tableau before him.

For a long moment, nobody moved. Hound finally took a step in and pushed the door shut behind him, never taking his optics off the two mechs in front of him.

Mirage was frozen with indecision. He'd finally reconciled his processor to the unbidden attraction to Hound, and had decided to ask Hound to bond with him after he'd straightened out his relationship with Prowl, but he'd dismissed Trailbreaker as an equal partner. This…connection they'd just forged between them had shaken all Mirage's assumptions at their foundations and rearranged all his priorities. Now his spark called for both Hound and Trailbreaker, in equal measure, and would not be satisfied with one or with the other, but must have them both.

Mirage keened, curling over his spark and collapsing slowly to the floor. Both Trailbreaker and Hound rushed to him, wrapping their arms around him and each other. In a pile on the floor of a dingy apartment Mirage nestled between his two spark-called mates and fought for his equilibrium.


	4. Chapter 4

When he could finally compose himself, Mirage explained everything to Hound and to Trailbreaker, all about his betrothal to Prowl, about the expectations of their respective families, and about Prowl's carrier, Lady Lyric, and her recent change of spark.

"She would very much like to meet you," Mirage explained, "and I think it would help us with my creator's creator and my carrier's creator."

"Why not your creator and carrier?" asked Trailbreaker, confused. He was holding both Mirage and Hound in his lap, with hound behind Mirage and mirage facing Trailbreaker. Hounds chin rested on Mirage's shoulder, and his arms were wrapped around Mirage. Trailbreaker held them both, his reach long enough to go around both mechs and hold them close to him. For all the privilege in his life, Mirage had never before felt so cherished as he did right now.

Shaking his head slightly to get his processor back on track, Mirage answered Trailbreaker's question.

"They are both in the Well of Allsparks. My creator was murdered by someone he was in business with, and who was upset with him. My carrier was assassinated as a warning to her creator.

"Whew," Hound said, "sounds like a rough start to life."

Mirage shrugged slightly. "It's all I ever knew."

"Yeah, we understand that. But we can still sympathise and wish you'd had more time with your creator and carrier." Trailbreaker said softly. "So, how do we make this meeting happen?"

"Let me comm Lady Lyric and ask her." Mirage replied. They gave him a modicum of privacy and he proceeded to get in touch with her, getting the reply that the lady would be more than happy to meet them at a restaurant on a klik away.

The three untangled themselves and prepared to leave to meet Lady Lyric.

The timing was fortuitous. Hound was on a short leave from his duty rotation, and Trailbreaker was awaiting parts for his custom shop, so this was one of the few times in the solar cycle they'd be together and Mirage had been very lucky to come to their apartment at this time. He wanted to take advantage of it and have the two mechs meet the important people in his life.

The place Lady Lyric had chosen was quiet, elegant and discreet. They didn't blink an optic at Mirage's companions, merely escorting them back to a private room.

Lady Lyric greeted Mirage quietly, then waited to be introduced.

Mirage did the honors, introducing her to hound with a "…and he's in the military," then motioned to Trailbreaker, with, "…but I don't know yet what he does."

Lady Lyric laughed. "I do. Hello, Trailbreaker, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Lyric. Almost done with your order, just waiting on that final sheet of customized titanium to finish up."

"Excellent!" Lady Lyric responded. Looking at the identical expressions of surprise on Mirage and Hound's faces, she burst into merry gales of laughter. "Trailbreaker is my customizer for my speeders. He does a lot of that work, and he's becoming more well know in my circle because his speeders are excellent and look amazing."

"Oh, wow." Was all Mirage could say.

Hound just chuckled and shook his head fondly at Trailbreaker. "Now I know your big secret."

Trailbreaker looked bashful and replied, "I didn't want to tell you and then have a spanner thrown in the cogs and disappoint you."

Hound nodded, "I know. You hate tempting Unicron." Trailbreaker nodded in agreement with his statement.

They returned their attention to Mirage and Lyric. Mirage could feel his spark liquefy at this glimpse of his two beloveds as they must be in private, while Lyric had a smile on her face.

They all turned their attention to the light repast Lyric had ordered, enjoying the warmed energon with oilcakes and gelled energon treats. Lyric asked a few questions, then sat back and watched the three of them as they hashed out answers amoung themselves.

At the end of the meal, Lyric addressed Mirage, "My dear, I think you should introduce Trailbreaker and Hound to the lords Shadow and Whisper. We'll start the procedure of breaking the bethothal."

"No!" Mirage said quickly. "No, because if I break it off, there is no blame attached to Prowl, whereas if he breaks it off…"

"Ah. Yes. Of course. Thank you, Mirage."

"Please pass on to Prowl that he should wait until a couple of orns have passed; it will help with the illusion."

"I'll tell him." Lyric promised, rising. "Thank you, Mirage." She took her leave quickly.

Mirage looked at Hound and Trailbreaker, then grinned. "Well, shall we?"

They nodded. At this point, they might as well. They followed Mirage out of the restaurant, then walked to a roadway where they shifted to their alt modes and followed Mirage.

Arriving at the Towers, they all transformed. Trailbreaker reached out and clasped Hound's hand, his face inscrutable as he looked up at the gleaming spires and glinting windows of this enclave of the rich. Mirage covered their hands with his own.

They entered the building and made their way to the doorman.

"Lord Mirage and two guests to see the lords Shadow and Whisper." Mirage said.

"Yes, my lord. You are expected." The doorman replied, leading them over to the elevator. He pressed the button to call a car, then waved them in when it replied.

Mirage told the elevator which floor he wanted, and the doors slid shut. As they rose higher and higher, they all moved closer to each other until they were huddled together, pulling strength from each other.

When the car finally arrived and the doors opened, an imposing black mech was waiting for them. Mirage forced himself to step forward, while Hound and Trailbreaker followed behind.

"My lord, your grandsires are eager to see you. May I inquire as to the designations of your guests?"

Of course, Downfall. This is Dom Hound and this is Dom Trailbreaker."

"Thank you, my lord. I'll announce you now."

They followed the butler down the hallway, stopping when he reached a door and paused to say, "My lords, Lord Mirage, Dom Trailbreaker and Dom Hound. He then stepped aside and bowed them in.

Mirage swept into the room and bent over the hands of two very elderly Cybertronians, giving each of them a kiss on their cheekplates. He then went and grasped Trailbreaker and Hound by the hands and pulled them over to stand in front of the two.

"My lord Whisper," He bowed to the silver and white mech, "my lord Shadow," as he bowed to the blue and black mech, "may I introduce to you Trailbreaker and Hound?"

"Very pleased to meet you." The two mechs murmured.

"Nice to meet you," Hound said just as Trailbreaker murmured, "It's an honour, my lords."

Mirage then ushered them to a long seat facing his grandsires and seated himself between them, holding their hands.

Shadow and Whisper looked at Mirage, then at each other, before Shadow spoke.

"What is this, my boy?"

Mirage visibly gathered his courage. "Grandsire, I have met my spark's desire."

Shadow gestured at the two mechs flanking Mirage. "These two commoners?"

"Yes, Grandsire, these two commoners." Mirage affirmed.

"What about Lord Prowl?" Whisper asked.

Mirage answered carefully "Lord Prowl is willing to step aside to grant me my spark's dearest wish."

Shadow spoke again, "What, exactly, do you wish to do, and what do you want from us?"

"I wish to bond my spark to Trailbreaker and to Hound. I would like your support and understanding in breaking off my betrothal to Lord Prowl and in announcing my new bond."

Lord Shadow and Lord Whisper murmured quietly between themselves for a short time before Whisper said. "We must discuss this with Lord Skirl and Lady Lyric."

"Of course, Grandsires, I understand." Mirage answered.

"I want you to have an engagement of at least twelve orns before bonding." Lord Whisper said.

"Six orns," offered Mirage.

"Ten," returned Whisper.

"Eight and no more," Mirage replied.

"Deal," Whisper said, "go now. We have much to do."

Mirage rose as did Hound and Trailbreaker. Hound stepped forward and offered a datachip to Lord Shadow.

"What is this?" Lord Shadow said, taking the chip.

"Our information, our employment records, our accounts and some references." Hound replied.

"Hound!" Mirage cried out just as Lord Shadow said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Hound replied.

"But, why?" Mirage asked.

Hound chuckled. "Because they are going to investigate us, Mirage. Might as well make it easy."

Mirage sputtered denials as they moved to leave, but Trailbreaker only laughed and scooped him up, nuzzling his nasal ridge with his own. "It's fine, Mirage. It's their job, to be sure you'll be safe with us. We don't take it personally and neither should you. Now, let's go. My stock just came in and I want to finish that speeder."

Hound grinned. "Yeah, Mirage, take us downstairs and we'll get out of your vents for the cycle."

Mirage was still sputtering as they left the room, so he didn't hear Lord Whisper tell Lord Shadow, "I do believe they will be good for him, don't you?" or Lord Shadow's reply of "Yes, because I've never seen him so relaxed or happy."

Trailbreaker let Mirage down once they reached the hallway. They left via the elevator, Mirage taking them all the way down before taking his reluctant leave of them.

The announcement of Mirage and Prowl's broken engagement was startling. Prowl found himself invited everywhere, titillated matrons wanting to know what happened 'in strictest confidence, of course!' and offering to pair him up with mechs and femmes galore. Prowl politely refused all such offers.

His creator units were also invited to many places, some sincere, while others were simply prurient. Lyric and Skirl replied to all inquiries with, 'it seemed more a mutual break-up than anything else' and ignored the inappropriate comments directed toward Mirage or Prowl.

Then Mirage's engagement to two commoners was announced, and Mirage and his family weathered a period of intense shunning. At the engagement party, Mirage's close friends came, as did Prowl. When that fact was reported, many who had shunned Mirage started to rethink their position, especially after business opportunities started to go to families that supported Mirage.

The lords Shadow and Whisper did not hide what they were doing; they were very honest about it when confronted. Anyone that supported Mirage would find business coming their way, while those that did not would find business falling away. They had not become and rich and as powerful as they were by being nice in the business world. Most families came around and, in public, supported Mirage's choices.

Prowl acted as Mirage's witness at the private ceremony affirming the bond between Mirage, Hound and Trailbreaker, eight orns after their engagement was announced. A more public ceremony was held after their bonding period and it was very well attended.

After the private ceremony, Mirage went home with Hound and Trailbreaker to their apartment. Lyric and Skirl had given them a gift of Vosnian energon, a traditional drink for bonding, as it gave lots of energy which was necessary for the prolonged time trines spent in forming three-way bonds. They shared the energon, each sipping at a container of it as they sat uncomfortably in the extremely clean apartment.

Everyone was nervous. Trailbreaker fussed in the tiny cooking area, while Hound paced from the living area down the hallway to the berth room, then back again when he reminded himself that he was not to draw attention to the more amorous possibilities open to them.

Mirage finally lost patience with them. Finishing his energon, he went into the kitchen area. He imperiously beckoned Trailbreaker down to his level, then kissed him when the black mech bent down to him. Trailbreaker hummed into the kiss, which got Hound's attention. He came over and wormed his way into the embrace, first stealing a kiss from Trailbreaker, then from Mirage, before letting them return to each other. Hound guided them toward the berth, extra large due to Trailbreaker's size, and eased them both down before seeking more attention from them.

Mirage, meanwhile, was quite distracted. While not entirely innocent of interfacing, he'd never had a long term lover, and was revealing in the feeling of being with someone to whom he was so profoundly attracted. When Hound demanded a kiss from Trailbreaker the second time, Mirage sat back on his heels and watched.

It was obvious that Trailbreaker and Hound were lovers of long standing. A few strokes of the other's frame, a whisper from Hound, a few more kisses and they were both revved up and ready. They turned to Mirage and pulled him between them, both sets of hands beginning to find and map his hot spots.

Hound found a spot on Mirage's spoiler; Trailbreaker echoed the movement and got another rev of Mirage's engine. Then Trailbreaker found a spot under the nosecone of Mirage's alt mode, which caused Hound to shift around and explore that spot with his glossa.

Mirage felt tossed between the two as they worked to get him as hot as they were. He managed to get some strokes on their frames, but was overwhelmed by the attentions paid to him by his two mates.

Trailbreaker fumbled his panel open, pulling out a cord. Hound broke off kissing Mirage to do the same. Mirage, lost in a haze of desire and physical sensation, didn't understand what was happening at first, only catching on when Hound began to paw at his chest, trying to find the panel covering his interface cords. Mirage finally sent the command to open the panel, and Hound pounced on it, pulling the cord free gently and plugging it into his own panel. Trailbreaker plugged into Mirage, and Hound plugging into Trailbreaker. Connected to each other, the sensations trebled and grew, each stroke of a frame sending the pleasure through the connection, growing as it moved from mech to mech, until Mirage went rigid and toppled over the edge of pleasure in a processor-blowing overload that cascaded through the cabling to drag Hound and Trailbreaker with him.

They collapsed in a heap, wisps of smoke from fried connectors wafting from their joints and seams. Trailbreaker pulled Hound to the side of Mirage so the smallest mech wasn't crushed beneath the larger two, and they dropped into a short recharge.

When Mirage came out of his two joor nap, he was being gently caressed by the other two, who had disconnected their cables and neatly coiled everything away. They were on either side of him, exploring his entire body. Hound seemed fascinated by his legs and feet, while Trailbreaker kept running his hands over his chest, shoulders and head, each touching lightly and moving on, trying to touch everything. Mirage delved in, doing his own explorations. Hound's chest, Trailbreaker's face, his fingers danced lightly over their plating, drawing gasps and moans from them. They didn't make any other moves to deepen the touches, though.

Finally, Mirage couldn't wait anymore. His chest plates moved to the sides as his spark chamber irised open. Trailbreaker lay back, opening his chest plates and pulling Mirage to one side of him, Hound to the other. Hound opened his chest plates and together, he and Trailbreaker opened their spark chambers.

The three sparks leapt toward each other, colliding in the middle and twinning tendrils into the other two until they were a mass of writhing energy.

As their sparks merged, each felt emanother/em inside their processor. As the merge deepened, the other became two others. Emotions were the first thing over the tentative bond; joy, appreciation, thankfulness, a sense of utter rightness, followed by memories as the bond deepened and grew.

Physically, they all got hotter and hotter as the bond between them deepened. In their processors, pathways unique to them formed and were hardwired in, searing new circuits and adding to the heat.

When they all overloaded, the final ties between them, physically and mentally, were forged.

They fell off-line, smoke rising from their bodies, all collapsed in a tangled heap with each other.

The next on-cycle, Hound tottered to his feet and gathered the last of the Vosnian energon and their cups, bringing it all over to the berth. He poured half of what remained for Trailbreaker, then split the other half equally between him and Mirage. He then shook Trailbreaker from recharge and handed him his cup, then woke Mirage and gave him his share before downing his own portion.

"Wow," was Mirage's thought, echoed by both his mates.

"Yes. This is amazing," Trailbreaker said.

"It's perfect. You're perfect," was Hound's answer to both of them.

None of them, however, actually spoke. Their bond was strong and resilient, supporting and loving of each other, forever more, and allowing them to communicate at a much deeper level than voices could ever achieve.

Prowl knocked on the door before him. He'd snuck into the apartment building on the heels of another mech, then made his way to this door.

The door opened and Jazz peered out. His mouth opened slightly in surprise before snapping shut. He stepped back in silent invitation.

Prowl entered, only to stop short at the sight of Hound, Trailbreaker and Mirage. With an exclamation of pleasure, he moved forward and greeted Mirage with the traditional Towers greeting, only to be enveloped in turn by Trailbreaker and Hound in exuberant hugs.

"How are you? You're looking wonderful and it's so good to see you. I didn't think I would for another orn or so!" Prowl said, returning his attention to Mirage.

"I'm doing very well, thank you. I love being bonded. Thanks for being my witness, by the way," Mirage answered, "and are you coming to the party in an orn and a half?"

"I wouldn't miss it, Mirage. I only received the invitation this cycle; I'll reply next cycle." Prowl told him.

"Well, we've just about worn out our welcome, so we'd best be going." Hound said.

As one (which they were, now) the three newly bonded mechs collected their cups, deposited them in the kitchen, and said their farewells, leaving Prowl and Jazz alone.

Jazz turned from closing the door to see Prowl looking out his big window. He came up beside Prowl and also looked out, not saying anything.

Prowl finally spoke. "I owe you an apology. I spent time with you under false pretences, and I apologise. It was quite wrong of me, and I am sincerely sorry."

"Apology noted and accepted." Jazz replied promptly.

Prowl fidgeted, then said, "Now that Mirage is out of my life, I wanted to know…I mean, ask, if there was…" he trailed off miserably. "Never mind. Thank you for your time, Jazz."

Jazz caught his arm and pulled him around so they were facing each other. He searched Prowl's face before leaning forward and brushing a kiss of Prowl's lip plates.

A snap of electricity popped between the two. Prowl clutched Jazz to him, turning his head slightly to seal their lips together even more. Jazz's glossa limned Prowl's lips and he opened, allowing Jazz entry to his mouth.

It was indescribably fulfilling, to taste Jazz and be tasted in return. Prowl finally pulled away when his processor insisted he find a place to lay Jazz down and claim him.

"I'm sorry!" He gasped out. "I didn't mean to take advantage!"

"Really?" purred Jazz. "'Cause I sure did."

"Jazz!" exclaimed Prowl. "I'm trying to be proper."

Jazz responded, "Yeah, but I'm not," before stepping back to give Prowl space.

Prowl vented hot air for a breem before moving to seat himself. Jazz followed suit, sitting so he was looking straight at Prowl.

"I wanted to know if you were open to the possibility of pursuing a relationship with me," Prowl said.

"We're already in a relationship," Jazz pointed out, "we're friends."

Jazz grinned as Prowl emgrowled/em and said, "I meant a romantic relationship, Jazz, and you know it."

"Sure I do, but it's fun to tease you, Prowl," Jazz answered.

"So…are you?" Prowl asked after a long pause.

Jazz became serious. "Do you have any other entanglement, obligations or ties I should know about?"

"Other than my creators and my job, no, I do not," Prowl answered.

"Then yes, Prowl, I'm all yours," Jazz answered.

Prowl stood and walked over to Jazz, kneeling in front of him and reaching out to cup his cheek. "We'll be taking it slowly."

"Um hm, sure, whatever you'd like," Jazz answered, nuzzling the hand on his face.

"Jazz, I'm serious."

"And I'm not. Life's too important to be taken so seriously. Enjoy yourself! Live in the moment!" Jazz then winked an optic at him.

Prowl kissed him.

They ended up going for a walk in the marketplace below Jazz's apartment, strolling hand in hand and enjoying each other's company.

It took Prowl a long time to overcome Jazz's fears and to see behind the mask Jazz presented to almost everyone, but finally, fifty orns after Mirage's bonding ceremony, Prowl and Jazz had their own ceremony.

Mirage, Hound and Trailbreaker were there, as were Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Hammer and Baffle and Lure also came. The atmosphere was festive, especially when it became apparent that both Trailbreaker and Mirage were carrying sparklings. Delighted, Jazz made the celebration into a dual purpose party, feting the carrying mechs as well as the new bond between himself and Prowl.

Jazz was extremely nervous. As Prowl had told him, they'd taken things slowly and they had yet to interface. He hoped that they were compatible. He covered his nervousness by interacting with every bot there, frequently stopping next to Prowl for a kiss or touch of hands, then moving away.

Finally, Prowl corralled him and started making their farewells. Jazz was so nervous now that his plating trembled. Prowl led him out from the party and to the suite that had been prepared for their first off cycle together.

It was beautifully decorated, but Jazz was shaking too hard to notice more than that. Prowl pulled him into a gentle hug, holding him close until the trembling stopped. Jazz clung to him.

Slowly, Prowl began to run his hands over Jazz's back, stroking the larger plates there. Jazz began to respond, his hands starting to move over Prowl's body.

It didn't take long before they were frantically fumbling for cords and plugging into each other, still caressing each other. A connection was established and Jazz rushed headlong into sensation. He shared his fear of incompatibility with Prowl and received a warmth, followed by a pulse of amusement and the thought ihow's this for compatibility?/i as Prowl tweaked something on Jazz's hip and sent him tumbling into overload.

Prowl didn't overload, and Jazz came out of his daze to find a very aroused mech over him. Prowl was watching him intently, his body shivering with tremors from holding himself back. Prowl emwanted/em him, and that desire was coming through the connection very clearly.

Jazz responded on a very basic level. His chest plates slid aside and his spark chamber opened, releasing his spark to leap out and reach for Prowl, who was not slow to respond to Jazz's invitation. Prowl's spark joined to Jazz's and Prowl released his hold on everything.

Jazz screamed as pleasure/love/desire/adoration/liking/appreciation flooded his mind and body. Still connected through cables, the joining of their sparks was deeper. Jazz felt complete for the first time in his life, intimately entwined with Prowl, the gaps of his life filled by Prowl's very being.

Jazz's second overload was all encompassing and shoved him right into recharge, still connected by spark and cable to Prowl.

When he groggily came out of recharge joors later, Prowl was still next to him. Jazz disconnected their cables and spooled them away. Their sparks had retreated to their chambers but their chest plates were still open. Jazz closed his and tottered to his feet. Spying some energon on a low table, he wobbled his way over and clutched the flagon and cups before making his way back to Prowl.

He shook Prowl's shoulder and smiled as he not only saw Prowl come out of recharge, but felt him too. Love flooded his mind from the pathway that he identified with Prowl, and they smiled at each other.

Drinking their energon, they toasted each other. From here on, life was only going to get better.

The End!


End file.
